This one is another modern setting with Ringo and Reader at their current ages. Again, don't like? Don't read. If so, WARNING. There will be more smut.
Imagine you're Ringo Starr's personal assistant. His appointments, schedules and appearances are all monitored by you. All his calls go through you. Practically all responsibility babysitting this Level 77 kiddo is yours, but you love every minute of it; stress and all. His bubbly ball of sunshine makes every day worth it.
One afternoon, you're out in the living room of his home in L.A. folding his laundry; personal assistant, remember? Then you hear it, his beautifully thick Liverpudlian accent wafts through the air across the house from his music room with your name on it. "Can you come here, please? He finishes. You knit your brow in confusion while setting down a pair of his freshly folded jeans. "He never wants me in the music room." You think to yourself as you shrug. "Must be important." You glide through the house and peek through the bead curtain at the doorway to see Ringo in his drumstool with his head tossed back, eyes closed; gorgeous lips parted as breathy moans escaped them, and his hand down his shorts.
He hears the beads rattle against each other and he looks over at you, the look of bliss on his face nearly makes you come. Oh, how you've dreamed of this moment; seeing not only your boss, but your very favorite former Beatle coming undone at his own touch. "Come here, please? He breathes. "I need your help." You kinda give an odd look, because then he says; "I know you're not allowed in here normally, but please? He begs. You nod and step inside, letting the energy of the moment wash over you. "What can I do for you, Sir? You ask as he points to the floor. "On your knees, please? I need your mouth." He moaned louder at the last words as if they made him hotter. In hindsight, they probably did.
You walk over to face him and bend down to your knees. You feel yourself drool at the orgasmic sight of his ginormous member. "Oh, my Gods! You think as you gently swat his hand away and replace it with your own. "I'm seriously gonna have Ringo fucking Starr's cock in me mouth. Dreams coming true." Luckily you have what your dentist calls Snake Jaw, so you dislocate your right jaw hinge and swallow him down like butter. The sounds that fell from his lips were like new music all their own. His moans and praises fill your ears and the room as you work his shaft, nuzzle his balls and; oh, my my! He's a mild screamer when your tongue slips into his slit. His grip tightens into your hair as you hear it; "I'm gonna come! Just then, he tosses his head back and shouts at the ceiling; your name on his lips and his come down your throat. You moan softly as you swallow it all.
You lovingly lick him clean, then tuck him back into his shorts as he comes down from his high. He pulls you up off your knees and kisses you, tasting his own release on your tongue. "Thanks, Love. I needed that." Says he with a wink. "Perhaps I'll pay you back later? You shiver at the thought.
-Fin
