I Learnt To Love In Liverpool | George Harrison ✅

♥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 ♥

"Hm," George hummed as he sat on the bed behind me, his hands immediately going to my shoulder blades and rubbing at them intensely, working the knots out from behind them, "how long has it been since we'd had time alone?"

It was a rhetorical question, but I had the answer. "Since before Dhani was born." I told him honestly, remembering how George had saved me from being a single parent once he and the band had returned from America in 1964 and my relationship with John had ended.

"And now it's just you and me again, Em," he paused, continuing to massage my shoulders, "Nance, Dhani and Jules are at school and Jack's asleep downstairs."

We took a few seconds to savour the silence of the house, my heart feeling oddly heavy at the thought of it. It was only eleven o'clock in the morning but there was nothing to do; the cleaner had finished with the house and had already left, and we had no other staff. The Beatles had finished work on their latest album 'Abbey Road', so George didn't even need to go into the studio. It was just George and me.

A wicked thought came to my mind.

"Y'know what we haven't done in a while?" I asked with a smirk on my face as I turned my head over my shoulder and looked at him.

"Gone at it like wild, love struck teenagers?" George asked, only half-jokingly.

I giggled, nodding. "Yes," I agreed, "but we also haven't tried anything new..."

George smirked, knowing where I was going with this. "What were you thinking?" He asked.

"Well," I turned around completely so that we were facing one another. I looped my arms around his neck and moved my lips closer to his, though being very careful to not connect them yet. I wanted to build the suspense, "Jack's down for at least another hour or so -"

Unable to take the pressure, George pressed his lips against mine, and we kissed for several seconds very softly. It was perfect, my heart thudding loudly in my ears. It amazed me how George could still make me feel like a teenager in love.

"I just want to make love to you, Em," George practically begged, going onto his knees and slowly moving me backwards so that I was lying on the bed, "please let me show you how much I love you."

"You've never needed permission, Georgie..." I combed my fingers through his hair and he groaned. I tugged on the strands and he whimpered. He was like my own personal puppet. With every tug and twist of my fingers, a different sound escaped from his gorgeous lips, and I swallowed them all up with my mouth, entwining my tongue with his, letting him take control.

George nudged my one of my legs with one of his own and I bent both of them at the knee, very quickly bringing one of them up and hooking it around his back, pulling him closer to me. George began to grind against my core and I moaned loudly, crying out as the material of my shift dress rode up and my panties became very visible, a damp spot proving how wonderful George was making me feel in that moment. He sat back only long enough to appreciate my body before his hands left my sides and began to undo his belt and the buttons of his denim jeans.

It seems like we had all the time in the world and yet we were rushing to get our clothes off - or rather to be as close to one another as we possibly could be. George pushed his trousers and underwear halfway down his legs and then he turned to my body, bending his head and pressing a harsh kiss to my clit over the top of my panties. I squirmed and breathed out in ecstasy, wishing that he would give me some more pleasure and stop fore playing.

I needed him.

"Georgie..." I moaned out, my hands going to hold onto the metal footboard of our bed as my husband pulled my knickers away from my body at an agonisingly slow pace.