Here is my newest story taking you back to the Hamburg/Early Beatle Days through 1964. While this is mainly a George story, John, Paul, Ringo, Pete, Cynthia, Paul's girlfriend Dot, Astrid and Klaus are major characters because of their closeness dur...
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October, 1962
Beneath the fancy black tux, his skin burned, his hands turned damp, as his eyes watched her on the arm of another man. What was she doing here...here with a warm smile for another man? He wasn't very tall, but was dark haired and stately with a statuesque profile and pale complexion. He recognized him from newspaper articles about The Conservatory. Even his footstep was light as he escorted his Katie to a table and pulled out a chair for her. Kate kissed his cheek and must have excused herself, heading away from the table alone.
George silently rose from his table and nonchalantly followed her. Her hips still had the same sexy sway that taunted him years ago, dressed in a lovely black, knee length dress that glistened under the subtle lighting.
When she slipped into the Ladies Room, he leaned against a wall near an outside door as if taking in a bit of air. Every nerve ending moaned as he remembered her, remembered her body, causing him to shift back and forth from one foot to the other. George kept vigil, his eyes anxiously pinned to the bathroom door, waiting for the second she emerged. What he was going to do then, he didn't know. His heart told him to grab her, kiss her hard, lift her up in his arms, ripping away panties and hose and while his tongue plunged into her mouth, take her, burying himself deep inside her. He was going to fuck her with all the want and need that growled in his belly...desire denied for years. His dick throbbed in his pants with thoughts of her kiss, her touch, the soft way she said his name when they made love. His mind told him to back the hell off. What if she was with the gorilla she bussed on the cheek before excusing herself? What if she had moved on? What then, big man??
He always remembered his Katie and their passionate lovemaking before she left for London and he with the band for parts unknown. He never forgot. Never. He wrote her nearly every day, even without a response he continued to write. How could she have given up on them and forgotten? He certainly didn't. George reserved a piece of himself for her alone. With all his celebrity, he had dozens of women, but never did he love as he loved Katie.
Finally, she exited the bathroom and George softly called her name. Her entire body came to attention, her chin lifted searching for something...a scent, a call...that she had waited for a long time.
"Katie," George said again.
Her black pupils dilated, growing in her caramel irises, the fine, soft hair across her arms shot alive, her hearing tuned to the sound of a specific voice. Kate dare not move. The sound could disappear if she turned the wrong way. Finally, she heard a step came around the small partition and George stood feet away from her, silent and exquisite in his black tux. He watched her lovely pink lips partially open and heard a whisp of air fill her lungs.
Seconds, then minutes passed without movement, without sound. In Kate's pounding heart, it was just the two of them in the world, making love on a carpet of thick, soft, green grass in the secret garden of wildflowers behind Strawberry Field. They were so young and so in love.
