I Learnt To Love In Liverpool | George Harrison ✅

♥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐲-𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 ♥

I ran up the stairs to our room, unbuttoning my trousers on the way. By the time I had closed the bedroom door behind me, my shirt was already on the floor and my trousers were around my ankles. I kicked them off before I went over to the bed. I bent over the footboard, having to push myself onto my tiptoes to reach it properly. My arse was facing the door, and I knew George would love the sight which awaited him when he finally joined me.

It felt like hours passed before I finally heard the latch of the door click open and a pair of footsteps come into the room. The door closed and I clenched my thighs together, the anticipation almost killing me.

"You took long enough," I purred as I turned my head to look over my shoulder. George chuckled lowly and began to take himself out of his trousers, pushing the material down to his knees and shuffling closer to me.

"And look at the sight that greeted me." His hands went to my arse, one on either cheek, massaging my cheeks through the lacy red material. "Aren't I lucky?"

"Aren't I?" I responded, moaning a little as George took another step forward and began to run his bare cock up and down the divide between my two cheeks. He let out a delicious shiver as the lace massaged his erection. "You take such good care of me, Georgie."

"Always, luv," George promised, his fingers slipping into my panties and gently pulling them down my legs. "You're my girl."

When I was naked in front of him, George took his hands from me reluctantly. He spat into the palm of his hand and slicked his cock with the saliva, doing this again and again until I could feel the air behind me move as he thrust into his fist.

"Come on, Georgie..." I teased him, wiggling my arse, "I'm so desperate for you..."

George moaned and put the tip of his cock to my weeping pussy, rubbing the head up and down and coating it in my juices. I whimpered, thrusting my hips against him, begging him to take me.

"Be patient!" George exclaimed, pulling away from me entirely. He walked away from me and I turned, whirling around and watching him go over to our chest of drawers, rifling through the one which contained our underwear.

"Georgie, please..." I rubbed my thighs together, my eyes brimming with tears at the thought of how much I needed to get off and the possibility of him denying me my release.

He found what he wanted, turning around and holding it up for me to see.

His tie. His black tie that he wore to funerals and important business meetings.

He took his time walking back towards me, his manhood tapping against his belly like a pendulum. I watched it, transfixed. My eyes wide and jaw on the floor. When George reached me, he wagged a finger, gesturing for me to turn around. I did as I was told, bending over the footboard once again.

"Hands, luv." George ordered darkly, an authoritative edge to his sexy voice.

I hummed in reply and put my hands behind me, right in front of him. George took both of my wrists in one of his hands and then bound them tightly using his black tie. The silk was so soft against my skin that I let out a mewl of delight.

"Such a good girl," he cooed at me, tightening the knot. "Now," he grabbed my arse with both hands and pushed my entire body upwards. I was now at a much more uncomfortable angle, but I knew that when he finally took me, it would be so deep. "Hold yourself. I don't want to hear anything."

"But -"

"Bite the duvet, I don't care." He paused, "no sound. Do you understand me?"

"Yes -"