Paul McCartney hires you as his secretary "for a little while". Synopsis is pretty self explanatory if you heard the song. Story begins on 15 September 1980.
I began writing then realized this image existed, so hey! (Its relevant to the chapter)
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9 October 1980
5:10pm Thursday
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Once the office was closed for the night, Paul came into the lobby to speak with you about finishing up the workday, what he would need tomorrow. After he finished speaking, he paused.
"Would you keep me company as I wrap up?" He had said.
Paul had asked you to sit on his lap while he finished his paperwork. He made a couple calls, jotting down notes, sipping his tea.
You went with it to humor him, watching him write.
His right hand was curled around your waist, keeping you balanced. He sighed and murmured, every so often shifting his fingers against the fabric of your blouse, pressing them into the side of your breast.
Paul's thighs were a comfortable seat you had to admit. You felt a bit like a cat, though.
You were sure this was something Paul did with his previous secretaries. Enjoying the company as he worked, the weight on him, as well as having a girl as a pet, to sit on him and fuck whenever he wanted.
When he was finished, he hung up the phone, and turned to you. From your seat on his lap, there wasn't much space between your faces.
"Well, what would you like to do now?" He said. His eyes were lidded, but the tone wasn't overtly seductive. More casual. You thought for a moment.
"Well, it's already 5:20." You said." If I leave now, I can catch the new Doctor Who serial."
Paul looked baffled, tripping up the suavity he was trying to put on.
"Thats a kid's show!" was the first thing he came up with.
You shrugged.
"I like it." You said. "The current lead's a Scouser. Like you." You tapped his nose.
"What?" He faltered. He didn't expect the conversation to get here.
"Well, why not stay for a moment?" He took on a more enticing tone. He ran his hand down your bare arm, you were wearing a sleeveless blouse. His voice was sweet as honey. "I'll make it worth your time."
You liked the touch of Paul's rougher hand. He seemed to have calluses on his fingertips. His hand was delicate, but much larger than yours, conducting heat better. His forehead was nearly touching yours. You could see his eye color quite clearly. They weren't quite brown, slightly green. Hazel was the word for it, wasn't it?
