Little Darling » mclennon au ✓

5

It's been a couple of weeks since John saw Paul last. He visited Starrison Pub just to see if he can catch a glimpse of the darling boy he had met and was head over heels for. Though Paul was nowhere to be found.

While John was busy working and heading over to the bar like a complete psychopath, Paul had been evicted from his apartment due to the late payments on his rent.

So that left Paul with no money. He was flat out broke. As he walked into the slums of Liverpool, he mentally cursed at himself for all the times he bought alcohol.

By the time Paul reached the church, he sighed. It was closed---meaning Paul would have to find another place to stay. He knew a couple of people who would let him into their place, but first he would have to find a payphone.

Once he found one, he picked up the ear piece and held it from his shoulder as he fished into his pockets for loose change.

Slipping the last bit of change into the coin slot of the payphone, Paul dialed the number to Starrison Pub; silently praying that Ringo would pick up.

"Hello?"

Shit! Paul thought. Why can't that bloody blue-eyed bugger pick up when I need him to? Now I have to play 20 Questions with his bloke of a husband.

"Hi, George." Paul breathed. "Listen, I need to--"

"Who is this?" George sneered, not realizing it was his regular customer. Paul's voice did come off as feminine, it was quite difficult to decipher his voice when a phone call was made.

Paul rolled his eyes. "It's Paul, ye bloke!"

"Oh," George replied, static wavering a moment. "Hi, Paulie! What can I do you for?"

The younger lad slammed his forehead against his palm. Why does George have to be so stupid? he thought to himself. Dismissing his question, Paul sighed.

"I need to crash somewhere," he says, fiddling the extension cord with his fingers. "I got kicked out of me flat, mate."

"I'm sorry, mate." George said in sympathy. "I'll tell Ringo and ye can come to our house in an hour. I hope ye don't mind sleeping on the couch."

Paul let out a sigh of relief. He didn't care if he had to sleep on that dingy piece of furniture they've probably shagged on a million times, he was glad that he had a place to stay for the night.

"I don't mind," Paul said finally. "Thank you for letting me stay at yer flat."

"No problem, Paul." George coughed a bit. Paul's guess was because George had been smoking too many cigarettes. "We'll see you in an hour."

With that, the line went dead.

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Now John wasn't the type to hang about in the sketchy part of Liverpool, but because a woman he used to go to Uni with had offered a good shag session, he phoned her up and was now heading to her flat.
Her name was Maureen. She had striking green eyes and jet-black hair. Her figure was slim, but was shaped like an hourglass. When John laid eyes on her the day she asked him to fuck, he couldn't stop looking at her ass. He thought about thrusting into it, or eating her pussy out. All of these dirty things were coursing through the auburn-haired man's head as he knocked on Maureen's door.

"Hello, John." she greeted. She was wearing a navy-blue dress that hugged her hips perfectly. Stepping aside, she allowed John into her home.

"How are you, Maureen?" John questions as he shrugs off his coat. Maureen tells him that she's fine, but all she really wants is his big cock.

"So," John says, stepping closer to her as he presses his body to her large chest. "shall we get down to business?"

Maureen hummed softly as John began to suck on her neck tenderly. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she answered:

"We shall."

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"Oh, fuck, John!" Maureen screamed as the man above her thrusted into her entrance like a jackhammer. This was the best sex she's had in three years. John knew it, too. He knew how to satisfy his one-night stands.

"Are ye going to cum for me, love?" John hauntingly asked as the bed shook. Maureen let out another cry of pleasure. Before she knew it, Maureen reached her high.

John collapsed by her side, panting. He had fulfilled his fantasies with this woman the moment she wrapped her arms around her neck. Her pussy tasted divine; almost as if strawberry juices were smothered around her clit. He stared up at the ceiling and sighed. This would be the part where he would force his tired body out of the bed and into his clothes.

"It was a good shag, no?" John asked as he sat up. The green-eyed brunette laid on her side; smiling in complete bliss as her hunger for pleasure had been satisfactory.

"Best one in years, Lennon." she lit up a cigarette with a lighter, inhaling the nicotine toxic. "I've heard of stories about your shag sessions, and I must say, you're fucking great."

"Thank ye." John replied, slipping on his coat. "Well, I''ll see you around."

"Goodbye, Lennon."

With that final bid, John showed himself the door. Once he stepped out of Maureen's dingy flat, he was greeted by the cool stab to the weather's murderous blows of wind.
He made his way to the car, but as he turned his head to the right, John stopped dead in his tracks.

From a distance, he could see Paul walking underneath the streetlights; hugging his body with his arms.

Instead of making his way home, John got inside his car and backed his vehicle up to drive near Paul.

"Paul!"

Paul turned around, his teeth chattering. He recognized that Scouse accent from anywhere. But, because of his encounters with skin-head thugs, he didn't trust it. He wanted the person to appear in the light, just to be sure.

"Who're you?" Paul asked. He was frightened. He could feel his heart pound out of his chest.

John rolled his eyes, annoyed that the young lad would question anything of the sort. Then again, this was a dangerous part of town.

"It's John, you bloke!" John called out. Paul bit his lip, uncertain still.

"Prove it, then!" Paul called back. He really was skeptical of these things. Maybe it was because he watched too many episodes of This Is England--- a film that was made into a program about skin-heads.

John huffed, then got out of his car. He walked underneath the broad light of the lamppost.

"Told you it was me," he mumbled once Paul's expression curved into a surprised one. "let's get you back to me place."

"I have to get to George's flat," Paul replied. "I promised him and Ringo that I'd be there in an hour."

"I'll drop you off in the morning," John replied, "now get in, you fuckin' git!"

Without hesitation, Paul slipped inside John's Cadillac.

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it's been awhile since I last updated. I hope you all liked this chapter. More will be up soon.

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- Valerie.