Press

15 July 1986

The song "Press" is technically about getting massaged.

Right there, that's it, yes/ Oh when you feel the stress, don't just stand there

You can give me what I want I must confess/ My body needs attention, my mind is in a mess/ Tell me to press!

~~~~

Paul and you were alone in his studio. He had to finish up some things, and you hung back.

The things did get finished. At the moment, you had him on a table, lying on his back as you fucked your fingers into him. Paul arched his back and moaned. You had no worries of being walked in on. All the session men and personnel had left, leaving Paul free to moan all he wanted in that sweet voice.

His new single he'd just put the finishing touches on earlier today played from the tapes. Once he got you alone, he played it for you. You listened again and again. It was a rather good one, you were sure it'd do well.

"Press, hmm?" You said.

Paul groaned again. You weren't holding back from rubbing hard into his prostate. It drove him crazy, that little spot. His eyes were blurred and his hair was disheveled, completely consumed by the sensation. You loved watching him unravel.

"I'm so glad you let me find this little spot all those years back." You said adoringly, pressing harder to accentuate your words. "It'd be a crime making you go your whole life without feeling this."

Paul wasn't eloquent enough to give a response. He cried again. You'd been fingering him for a bit, but hadn't paid much attention to his sweet knob. Not that he minded. His mind was essentially on cloud nine, building up to his release.

You pressed harder, massaging into that little spot.

"Want me to touch your knob, Paul?" You murmured, grinning sweetly up at him. Paul nodded enthusiastically, his eyes still spacey.

You ground into it harder, covering the entirety of the spot, then wrapped your left hand around his shaft, squeezing it. Your focus was on his prostate, but you gave it a couple firm strokes.

Shivers went through Paul's entire body. He threw his head back. You watched his sweet pecker twitch in your hand, all needy and swollen.

"Wanna cum, Paul?" You asked. You spoke along with his recorded singinging, mimicking his voice. "Your body needs attention, your mind is a mess, tell me to press..."

You pushed your fingers hard into his prostate at the final word. Paul cried out.

"Very nice, Paul." You grinned.

Paul whined and cried, legs tensing up. They began to tremble.

You didn't even need to touch his dick much, yet he was cumming. You watched his face scrunch up as the fluid released from his swollen head, landing on his pretty chest. Luckily you pulled up his shirt. Damn, age didn't do a thing to him. His body was lovely even now. Seeing him cum all over it worked you up more than anything.

Paul's legs relaxed. He looked down at you as his breaths returned to normal. You gathered some of his sweet fluid on your finger, bringing it to your lips. You smiled down at him.

"Again, Paul?" You asked. His eyes widened.

~~~

Press is his best solo song. It is obvious.