Thursday, October 4, 2012

Chapter 12

The next morning I awoke feeling more awful than I had before I went to sleep. I could smell something cooking and once I put my robe on, I shuffled into the kitchen to find Edward making breakfast in only his pants. His chest was creamy, with fine blond hairs covering it and his shoulders were strong. He looked good, with his blond hair mussed from sleeping, and a little morning scruff covering his cheeks and chin, but I couldn’t help but wish that he wasn’t there.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of using your kitchen facilities in order to prepare a bit of breakfast for us,” he said sweetly.

I moved my hand up to my forehead. How was I going to get out of this?

“Oh, um, no. Not at all.”

“My mum taught me to cook years ago and told me it would come in handy some day. I suppose today is the day,” he smiled.

I had to think fast.

“Edward, I have some things I need to do today, so I’ll have to eat and run. You can stay here if you like. Please don’t feel like I’m kicking you out. But, I do have to…”

“Well, perhaps I’ll come with you,” he said cheerily.

“No!” I blurted out without thinking.

Edward looked at me a bit confused.

“I’m sorry; I just mean that… you can’t. I have to go down to the agency and take care of some things and I don’t know how long I’ll be there. It’s work. I mean… I have to work, so…”

“Oh, work. Yes, I suppose I shouldn’t tag along in that case. It would probably seem a bit unprofessional. Well, then after breakfast maybe you and I could have a shower together in order to save some time. You know, just to get you out the door a bit faster,” he grinned, raising his eyebrows playfully.

“Actually, I’m feeling really… gross, so I’m going to go ahead and pop in the shower now, before I can even think of eating. I hope you don’t mind.”

God I felt awful. Edward was such a lovely person. Handsome, polite, and thoughtful. He was everything a girl was supposed to want in a man, but he wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted all the wrong things. What was the matter with me? Here he was, this gorgeous, blond, blue-eyed, proper Englishman, who I had slept with and he still stuck around long enough to make breakfast! And all I could think about was the bastard who had treated Edward so poorly the night before. Poor Edward had to have sensed that I was doing everything I could to avoid him that morning. The sex we had had the night before had been perfectly satisfying, in the physical sense, but I still didn’t feel a strong connection to him, even after we had done it. I couldn’t help it. The chemistry just wasn’t there. And now, this morning, I just felt like I couldn’t get far enough away from him. I didn’t know how I was going to be able to sit through class with him every day of the week.

After I had a shower, Edward got in and I hurried to dress and leave so there wouldn’t have to be an awkward goodbye. He was still in the shower when I was ready to go, so I popped my head in the bathroom and asked him to lock up when he left. He said he would and I was on my way. I didn’t even eat the breakfast he left lying on the table. It made me sick to even think about eating it. I caught a cab downtown and wandered around aimlessly for a while before I decided to go visit Christine at her place. She was a bit surprised to see me since I had not called first to tell her that I was coming over, but once I had explained the situation to her, she understood completely.

“So what are you going to do now?” she asked.

“I have no idea. I told him I had to work today just so I could get away from him! Isn’t that the worst?”

“Well, was the sex good at least?” Christine asked.

“The sex was… sex, you know? There were no fireworks, if that’s what you’re asking. I’m just not in love with him.”

“Do you think he’s in love with you?”

“I’m sure he is,” I sighed. “You should see the way he looks at me, Christine. It’s awful. The whole situation is just God awful.”

“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to go to the Ad-Lib with me and Paul tonight, but I don’t know if John is going to be there or not, so…” she said.

“Why should it matter if he is? I’m so mad at him. You should have heard the things he said to Edward. And he kept calling him ‘Ed’, all condescendingly. I could have just strangled him. I probably should have!”

“Then maybe you should come and confront him if he is there tonight.”

“You know you’re right. I should give him a piece of my mind. I can’t just let him scare me out of going places because of the chance that he might be there. I like going to the Ad-Lib and I’m not going to let him stop me from going to a place I enjoy.”

“Good,” Christine smiled. “So then what are you going to do today?”

“Maybe go shopping for something to wear tonight. I don’t want to go home and take the chance of running into Edward. John doesn’t scare me, but seeing Edward right now does!”

The two of us laughed.

“Well, I’m sure I have something you can wear, so you can just hang around here all day if you want. I don’t really have anything planned.”

I agreed and the two of us didn’t do much for the rest of the afternoon. Later in the day Paul came over since the guys had the day off from recording and Christine made us a bite to eat. We hung around and talked and smoked a little pot.

“So when is your mom supposed to be coming?” I asked her.

“Oh. I’m not sure really,” Christine answered.

“Well, you know, I think we should probably wait until we get done in the studio to have her come round, because I won’t get to see her much otherwise,” Paul answered. “And you know how I’m just dying to meet a woman who’s already decided she doesn’t like me,” he smiled, raising his eyebrows in that cheeky way only Paul was able to pull off.

Christine elbowed him.

“That’s not true!” she giggled, hitting him playfully. “Mom never said she doesn’t like you. She just thinks you’re a wild rocker.”

“Aren’t I?” he teased.

“You tell me, Macca!” she laughed.

The two of them wrestled around playfully a bit until there was a knock on the door.

“Oooh you’re so lucky!” Christine said, getting up and making her way to answer the door.

When she opened it, we saw three young girls, obviously pre-teens, and obviously Beatles fans, and they shrieked when they saw Paul through the open doorway.

“Okay girls, what have I told you about knocking on my door?” Christine asked in a motherly tone of voice. “You’re welcome to wait around outside and ask Paul for an autograph when he leaves, but I won’t have you knocking on my door. You wouldn’t want me to have to get some security out there to keep you from being able to see him at all, now would you?”

“No, please. We only want to see Paul,” the smallest girl said in a voice that matched her size.

“Oh, come on. They only want to see me,” Paul said, mimicking the young girl’s voice.

The girls shrieked once more.

“Paul,” Christine said, “if I let these girls in they’re going to tell ten more girls and those girls will tell ten others and before long I won’t even be able to get to my front door through the crowd that will be gathered out there. It’s bad enough as it is.”

“Aw, come on, Chris, let ‘em in,” he said.

Christine widened her eyes incredulously at him, then looked at me for support.

“Hey, don’t look at me. This is between you two!” I laughed.

Christine returned her eyes to Paul with an expression on her face that said she thought he was totally crazy, as she opened the door wider so the girls could come in. They screamed and ran toward Paul in a frenzy. Christine peeked outside to see how many others had seen the three girls come in, but to her amazement, there was no one else outside her apartment that afternoon.

“There’s no one out there,” she said in shock, coming back to where Paul and the girls were standing.

“Now then, who’s your favorite Beatle?” Paul asked.

“You, of course!” two of the girls said simultaneously.

“Ringo,” the other said.

Christine and I laughed.

“Ringo? Get away! He’s mine too!” Paul said.

“And your favorite song?” Paul asked, while signing his autograph for the threesome.

“All My Loving”, one of them said.

“Eight Days a Week,” said another. They were talking over each other now.

“Mine’s is “‘Til There Was You” said the littlest girl. “That’s the best one you ever wrote!”

“Why, thank you. Those are all my favorites too,” he said.

The girls grinned from ear to ear.

“Now girls, you’ll have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone you got to come in here today.”

“We won’t,” the smallest girl said.

“We swear to you we won’t,” another added.

“I promise, Paul. We’ll do anything for you,” the third said.

“Right. Oh good. Thanks a lot. I had a feeling you were good girls. And such pretty young ladies too. Why, if only I was a little younger.”

The girls giggled hysterically.

“Right. Now then, run along. Thanks for stopping by,” Paul said, escorting them to the door.

The girls were pie-eyed and had huge smiles plastered on their faces as Paul left them outside.

“Poor love. I didn’t have the heart to break it to her that I didn’t write “‘Til There Was You.” Did you see her face? I could just imagine her listening to it while lying on her belly on the floor, chin in her hands, dreaming of the day when we’d be marri…” Paul said, closing the door and smiling to himself.

“I can’t believe you did that,” I giggled, interrupting him.

“Me either,” Christine said; only she was not as amused. “Paul, what were you thinking? You think those girls are actually going to be able to keep themselves from telling everyone they know that Paul McCartney invited them inside and signed autographs for them? I’m going to have people breaking down my door to get in. I swear, you only think of yourself sometimes,” she said, folding her arms across her chest and shaking her head.

“Done, love?” he asked with a teasing smile.

“It’s not funny, Paul. Your fans are rabid. I should probably start looking for another place to live.”

“You know, I was thinking the same thing,” he said.

“I’m serious, Paul,” Christine said.

“As am I, love.”

Christine and I looked at him with curiosity.

“What?” she asked.

Then suddenly his hand dove into his pocket and produced a set of keys. My eyes widened and I saw Christine’s jaw drop.

“What are those?” she asked slowly.

“Keys to your new place,” he grinned broadly.

“What?!” Christine screeched.

“I bought you a place very near mine, love. With a security gate and all. No one will be breaking your door down, there. Well, at least not until they’ve tried to break mine down first,” he said in mock thoughtfulness.

“Oh. I thought you were asking her to move in with you,” I giggled.

“Bite your tongue, miss. We haven’t been seeing each other that long. Have to maintain my bachelorhood a little while longer. Besides, how would my other girlfriends like it if I had some bird living with me?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

Then Christine attacked him.

“Oh, you!” she said as she tickled and playfully hit him. “I can’t believe you did this! It’s so… wonderful of you!”

“Of course, love. I love you. Can’t have you living somewhere, where my rabid fans might do harm to you now can I?” he giggled and buried his face in her neck kissing her lovingly.

After that, we went to Christine’s new house and had a look around. Paul said it was ready to move into whenever she was. Christine, in turn, said she was ready as soon as she could get some movers. I told her I knew a few boys at school who worked for a moving company, but Paul said it wouldn’t be necessary; that he would find someone to do it. The two of them were so happy going from room to room I felt like the third wheel. I decided I would swallow my fear and go home to rest a bit and get ready to go out that night and to give Paul and Christine some time alone together. When I got home I was relieved to find that Edward was gone, although he did leave a note on my bed that read:

“Thank you for everything, Maggie. In case you haven’t noticed for some reason, I have very strong feelings for you. And I am so grateful we were finally able to share the experience we had last night. With any hope, there will be many more amazing times to come. With all my heart and soul, Edward.”

I suddenly felt like I was going to vomit and I ran to the toilet, and heaved, but nothing happened. I sat on my bathroom floor taking in big gulps of air to calm myself down and eventually my stomach began to settle. What was I going to do? We had never even officially said we were going together. Even so, I felt like I was going to have to break up with him. I couldn’t continue stringing him along. Making him think I liked him the way that he liked me. We had finally slept together and I still felt absolutely nothing between us. And yet, he seemed to be in love with me. I went to my bedroom and passed out on the bed, finding it easier to sleep than to come up with a solution to my problem.

When I awoke I got ready and caught the tube down to the Ad-Lib. I was nervous the entire way there. If John was there, should I even talk to him? If I did, what would I say? I was still so angry with him I decided if he was there I would have to say something. But when I got inside the club I saw Paul and Christine and Mal sitting around with some of the members of the Rolling Stones. Not Mick or Keith, but the others, whose names I didn’t know. I joined them and we all talked and drank and I watched the door almost the whole night expecting to see John march through it at any time. In fact, I found myself hoping he showed up, and then I became angry with myself for wanting to see him after he had been so horrible the night before. As the night wore on I became tired, so I bid the others farewell and caught a taxi back home.

The next day Edward phoned and I used the excuse that I was on my way out so that I didn’t have to speak to him. I did a bit of studying, and then decided to visit an art gallery a friend at school had been telling me about. I wanted to see John. I felt pathetic about it, but I wanted so desperately to see or to speak to him that I couldn’t stand it. But he hadn’t phoned my apartment and I didn’t want him to know that I was thinking about him, so I wasn’t going to call him either. I decided that even though I had school the next day I would go to the Ad-Lib that night and hope to run into him. But once I got there, I found it to be one of those rare nights when no one in the Beatle camp was there. I spoke to Christine after school the next day and she told me that Brian had hosted a party for ‘Star Scene ‘65’ at The Scotch, of St. James Club, and that he had made them all go there.

That night, as I was getting ready to go to bed very early, because I was feeling rather depressed, the telephone rang.


“Yes, Maggie, hello,” the person on the other end said.

“Who is this, please?”

“It’s Edward, silly,” he laughed.

My stomach churned. I had been able to avoid him at school that day and had become hopeful that maybe he wasn’t going to call me since it was already getting late and he hadn’t. But here he was calling me now. I wasn’t sure how this was going to go, but I was sure I was going to have to end it with him. There just wasn’t any electricity between us.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t recognize your voice,” I said.

“That’s all right. How are you? I didn’t get a chance to speak to you in class today and by the time it was over you were gone before I could find you.”

“Yes. Sorry about that. I’m fine thanks. You?” I asked.

“I’m great! What are you doing tonight? Would you like to go and have a drink with me?”

“Oh, actually I was getting ready to turn in.”

“What? It’s early yet. My nana doesn’t even go to sleep at this hour. Aren’t you feeling well?”

“Yes. Just a little drained,” I said.

“Well, that’s fine. I just wanted to hear your voice anyway.”

Ugh. He was so sweet. It was almost disgusting sometimes. And the biggest trouble was, his sweetness was completely genuine. Unbelievably, he really honestly was that kind and thoughtful. And for some reason, I couldn’t stand it. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I let him love me like I know he would? Why had I always been attracted to men who were unavailable either emotionally or physically? And why oh why was I so hung up on John, who was the least available man I had ever met both emotionally and physically?

“I wanted to talk to you about the note I left at your place,” Edward continued.

“Yes, about that,” I said.

“No, let me finish, please. I really meant that, Maggie. I meant every last word. Our night together was… amazing and I feel like I might be falling…”

“Edward, stop,” I ordered. “It’s hard for me to explain, but… Well, I think you’re a terrific guy. Really. You’re like no other guy I have ever met. You truly are wonderful. But… I just don’t have the same feelings for you that you have for me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I did. I really do. Believe me; it would make things much simpler. But, I just…”

“Don’t,” he finished for me. “You know I was afraid of that. In fact, I suppose I knew all along.”

“You did?” I asked, a bit shocked by what he was saying.

“Well, your heart was never really into it, was it? On our dates, your mind was always… somewhere else. And when I kissed you, I saw fireworks, you know? But I never saw that sparkle in your eye that told me you felt the same.”

“I’m so sorry, Edward,” I said, a lump rising in my throat, cutting off my air supply.

“And then when I saw you and John together the other night, there were sparks flying everywhere between you two. Sparks I had only hoped to see between us. But knowing that he’s married I guess I held up hope that there was still a chance for you and me.”

“This has nothing to do with John,” I said.

“Well, I hope not, Maggie, because he could never love you as completely as I could. He’s got fame and a marriage to worry about. He can’t give himself to you in the way that I would.”

“I have to go, Edward,” I said, feeling the tears stinging my eyes. “I’m sorry. I really am.”

When we hung up the phone I began to sob. And after I lay there crying for a time, I decided the easiest way to make everything go away was with a drink, even if it was only a temporary solution. I got one of the dresses I had worn in the fashion shoot out of my closet and pulled it on. It was a terribly short, shiny silver and vibrant red, striped, sleeveless dress and there were silver flats to go with it. I hadn’t worn any stockings or tights with it during the photo shoot and I wasn’t sure whether they would look good, so I opted for nude legs despite the chilly weather. I did my makeup in dark eye liner with silver lids, but I couldn’t get into the pale lipstick that was so popular, so I decided to leave my lips my natural color. The dress was flashy enough on its own, so instead of messing with a fussy hairstyle, I just brushed it and left it down. Satisfied with the way I looked, I grabbed my coat and headed out the door for the Ad-Lib.

I ordered a drink as soon as I stepped into the Ad-Lib and ordered a second almost immediately following. I must have looked particularly fetching that night in my “model ensemble,” because every man in that club was staring at me. In fact, a couple of them were brave enough to try and give me a pull, but I was only interested in drinking and told them as much. I had to do something to make the way I was feeling go away, and drinking seemed easiest. It wasn’t until I was starting on my third drink that I saw Ringo and George. They called me over to where they were sitting and I asked where the girls were.

“Lads night out,” George smiled.

“Hmph. The girls should be grateful for the time apart,” I scoffed.

“Hey, what’s the matter with you?” Ringo asked, furrowing his brow.

“She’s tanked,” George said dryly.

“I am not. Look, I’m sorry. I’m just not in a very good mood.”

“I think you’re about to be in a worse one,” George said nodding in the opposite direction.

I looked over and saw John walking towards us. He was wearing a white shirt with black polka dots under a black suit jacket and matching black pants. His arm was around some blonde and his face was buried in her neck.

“Bourbon and Coke, love? Make you feel a lot better,” Ringo smiled softly and handed me a drink.

“The bloody bastard said he’s not coming,” John said as he sat down, completely ignoring the fact that I was there.

“Who’s that then?” Ringo asked.

“Paul,” John said, wrapping his arms around the girl and replanting his face in her neck as she sat down beside him.

“Why’s that surprise you?” George rolled his eyes.

“Doesn’t I suppose,” John mumbled from beneath the girl’s hair.

I guess I must have been making a face because Ringo gave me a concerned look and quickly turned all of his attention toward me. George got the point and followed his lead, focusing the conversation on me.

“Did I already mention that you look gear tonight, Maggie?” George said.

“Yeah, real marvelous, love. New frock?” Ringo asked.

“Thanks. Sort of,” I answered, distracted by the scene that was taking place too close to me for comfort.

“Here,” Ringo said, handing me my fourth drink.

“This your school uniform then?” George asked, tugging on the edge of my dress.

“Oh yeah,” Ringo added. “Haven’t you seen them round? The lads look particularly fetching with the sparkly eye makeup.

“Do they?” George asked.

It was obvious that the two of them were trying their hardest to distract me; pretending John wasn’t even there so I wouldn’t get my feelings hurt. But John didn’t seem to mind. He had the girl practically sitting on his lap and he was squeezing her bottom with both hands as his mouth devoured her neck. She ran her hands through his hair and giggled. I tried to concentrate on carrying on a conversation with George and Ringo, but as the scene beside us became increasingly obscene, it proved nearly impossible. When I noticed the girl’s hand disappear between her and John, I heard John give a little moan, and I felt the tears fill up in my eyes.

“I’m sorry, boys, I have to go,” I said as I rushed out of the club and into the street.

I hailed a taxi, but before I could get in it, the tears began to spill out. I jumped in and told the driver where to take me through sobs of hurt and embarrassment. I was angry at myself for being so upset. There were so many things I had wanted to say to John, but when I saw him, I forgot every one of them. For some reason I just couldn’t stay mad at him. But then, he acted as if he couldn’t see me at all. As if I didn’t even exist. And that hurt more than words can describe. And combined with the sight of him with that girl, it was all just too much to take. The jealousy and mixed emotions I felt rushed over me before I realized it and I had to get out of there. To my surprise, the cab driver expressed a concern at my sorry state. I told him I was just having boy troubles and he frowned.

“Pretty girl like you should not have these troubles. Perhaps you looking for wrong man. Must find man who treats you with respect you deserve. Like princess,” he said in an accent I couldn’t quite place.

I thanked him and gave him a tip when I got out of the car. But his words had not helped me feel any better. I knew I shouldn’t be having these sorts of problems. Had I tried to work things out with Edward, I would most likely not be experiencing the kind of pain I was having while pining over John. The fact that I had brought these problems on myself by choosing not to stick with Edward made me all the angrier. When I got inside my apartment I slammed the door behind me. I was becoming more and more furious at myself all the time. Why did I have such a problem allowing myself to be happy? Why did I go for boys I couldn’t have? Boys, that always made things more complicated? I went into the bathroom and washed the makeup off my face. And just before I went to change out of my dress, there was a knock on the door. Who could it possibly be? I opened the door slowly to find John standing there looking almost as upset as I was. His eyes and nose were red and it was obvious he too had been crying. I felt tears threatening to fall again and a lump rose in my throat making it unable for me to speak.

“Are you fuckin’ him?” John asked in a tortured tone.

“What?!” I exclaimed angrily, my tears quickly disappearing. “Who?!”

“Your sodding little school mate!” he answered, anger rising in his voice.

“Oh, boy, do you have some nerve, John Lennon?! After you completely ignore me at the club, then practically have sex with that bimbo right there in front of everyone?!”

“Oh come off it, Maggie, I didn’t even know that bird.”

“Well, that’s not surprising,” I answered.

John rolled his eyes.

“No! I mean, when I saw you come in the door, I went and grabbed the first bird I saw giving me the eye in case you were going to meet your boyfriend there again.”

“Why?” I asked.

“For fuck’s sake, Maggie, I don’t know. I suppose I wanted to make you jealous or something.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“But I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said quietly and lowered his eyes to the ground. “I was just jealous and I wanted to piss you off real good. Make you see how it feels, you know? But when I saw you leave I knew I’d gone too bloody far. I threw the bird off me lap and came after you as fast as I bloody could.”

“John, I…”

“Look, Maggie, just be fuckin’ honest with me here, all right, because I need to know. I have to know. Are you shagging that bloke or aren’t you?” he raised his eyes to me and stared hard, searching for the truth in my eyes.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” I said.

“Because I want to fucking know, that’s how it’s my bloody business!” he shouted, becoming angry again. “But I guess that’s my answer anyway, isn’t it?”


“‘Cause if you weren’t, you’d just bloody say that you weren’t.”

“If you must know, John, we slept together for the first time the other night after we ran into you at the club.”

“Oh Christ, Maggie!” he exclaimed covering his face with his hands.

“You were such an asshole to him, John! He likes the Beatles. And he was in complete awe of you and you embarrassed the hell out of him! I felt just awful for the way you treated him. He didn’t deserve that.”

“So you shagged him to make him feel better, then did you?” he said contemptuously.

“Why the hell do you care anyway?” I raised my voice, offended by the tone in his voice and annoyed that he always seemed to know me so well.

John threw his hands in the air.

“Because in case you haven’t bloody noticed, Maggie, I want to be with you! And I certainly don’t want anyone else to have you if I can’t!” he yelled completely exasperated.

He lunged at me, grabbing me and kissing me firm on the mouth. I pulled away from him roughly and without even thinking, I slapped him hard across the face.

“You slapped me,” he took a step back with a stunned look on his face.

“What in God’s name made you think it was a good time to kiss me?”

“Christ Maggie, I want you so fucking bad. I can’t stand it any more. All I can think about is having you and kissing you. It’s driving me completely mad!”

He grabbed me and planted another hard kiss on my lips.

“John,” I tried to protest against his lips.

And the split second it took me to say his name was all he needed. His tongue slid into my mouth and I was immediately lost in his kiss. All the weeks of desire that had built up inside me suddenly took over and I couldn’t control myself. I reached up and pushed his jacket off his shoulders and it fell to the ground. Without removing his mouth from mine, John pulled me close to him and reached behind me, unzipping my dress and sliding the straps down my shoulders. I pulled my arms out of it and then made to unbutton his polka-dotted shirt. He slid my dress the rest of the way down my body, helping me step out of it. Then he kissed his way back up, running his tongue lazily up my leg and grabbing my behind firmly to help himself stand back up. He kissed my flat belly and up the middle of my rib cage to my cleavage where he nuzzled, kissing and sucking and driving me absolutely crazy. Then he kissed my neck and finally made his way back to my mouth where I welcomed him and returned his hungry kiss eagerly. I wanted to feel his skin against mine, so I finished unbuttoning his shirt and slid it down over his shoulders. His chest was gorgeous. Lightly sun-kissed and so smooth. It was heaving heavily as he breathed. I ran my hands over his chest and around to his back and pulled him close to me feeling the heat of his skin against mine. I felt his erection hard against my belly and I reached down and grabbed it, causing John to groan in delight. He reached around my back and unhooked my bra setting my breasts free.

“Christ you’re beautiful. Just fucking perfect,” he said in a throaty voice.

He grabbed my breasts with both hands and bent his mouth to them, finding one nipple and licking it eagerly. Then he kissed between my breasts to the other one and sucked on it, tugging slightly. I leaned my head back feeling the warm sensation of his wet hot mouth on my breast and ran my fingers through his hair. He suddenly pulled away and scooped me up into his arms. And carrying me the few steps to the sofa, he playfully threw me onto the comfy cushions.

“Oh, why not in bed?” I asked.

“Uh-huh. Won’t make it, love,” he said.

He quickly undid his pants and let them drop to the ground and I giggled softly to myself at the sight of him in nothing but his underwear. It was so strange. The first time we had had sex, we hadn’t even really seen each other. I lifted my skirt, he unfastened his pants, and there it happened, with all our clothes on. I suddenly felt very conscious that I was laying there on my sofa in nothing but my panties in front of John Lennon, who in return, was standing before me in nothing but his tight, white underwear.

“Lose the knickers, love,” he demanded, suddenly dropping his own underwear and allowing his erection to spring free.

I was a bit surprised by the sight of it. I hadn’t realized he was so large the first time we were together. I wanted to feel him inside me right then. I couldn’t wait any longer. I quickly did as I was told, but before I could get completely out of them, he was on top of me. He went straight for my neck and sucked and licked his way up to my mouth. But before he kissed me again, he raised up to look into my eyes.

“I’m going to shag you rotten, girl,” he grinned mischievously.

And I gasped as I felt his hand move across my belly and down between my legs.

“Mmm. Nice and wet. All ready, are you?” he teased.

I was aching for him. I raised my head up off the sofa and kissed him hard on the mouth. Then I ran my hands again through his beautiful reddish brown hair and pulled his head down to me. I felt him throbbing against my thigh as he gently ran his fingers around my wetness, finding my button and rubbing it softly. I slid my hands down his back and scratched my way back up it as we kissed passionately. I couldn’t stand it any more. He was bringing me close to orgasm. I arched my back and moved my hips in time with his fingers.

“John,” I gasped in pleasure.

“Not without me you don’t,” he giggled, pulling his fingers away from between my legs.

Then, without warning, he thrust himself into me hard and as far as he could go and we both gasped with satisfaction. I dug my nails into his back as he stroked in and out of me at a slow and steady pace. I wrapped my legs around his waist as his rhythm increased. I wanted him. All of him. I wanted him as deep inside me as he could be and even then, I wanted him deeper. I wanted to really feel him. To be one with him. He pumped in and out of me frantically and I called out his name in desire.

“Christ, Maggie, you feel so fucking good. I’ve been waiting so long for this,” he panted and then bent his face down to mine and kissed me fervently.

As he moved in and out, I took note of how our bodies rocked so perfectly together, anticipating each other’s movements. And how our breathing was in time with one another as if we were the same person. Then, something happened that had never ever happened to me before. Just as I felt the sweet release of pleasure wash over me, I felt John’s body tense up, and at the very same moment, we were both swept away in one unified, intense orgasm. I felt my muscles contract and release involuntarily around his hardened flesh as he poured himself into me. Then he collapsed on top of me and we were one, tangled, sweating mass of arms and legs. He laid his head on my heaving chest, as I took in big gulps of air, trying to help my breathing become normal again.

“That was amazing,” he said. “You’re amazing.”

He kissed my breasts gently. He was still inside me and I never wanted him to move. I just wanted to lie there like that for all of eternity. I had never felt closer to one person in all my life. The first time we had had sex, he brought me to one of the most powerful orgasms I had ever had. But this was entirely different. I had never had a simultaneous orgasm with any of my lovers before. It was a truly unifying experience. Though, as good as it felt, and as close as I felt to John, the painful thought that he would have to leave me soon to go back to Cynthia crept into my head, though I tried my hardest to ignore it.

“How did you do it?” John asked, raising his head off my chest to look at me.

He slipped out from inside me and my heart broke a little. The closeness I felt to him was already dissolving.

“How did I do what?” I asked.

“How did you come at the same time? That was… that was bloody fantastic.”

“You mean that’s never happened to you before?” I asked, feeling strangely giddy at the thought that that was something he and I had only shared with each other.

“Don’t think so… No. I’d definitely remember that. I’ve never experienced anything like it. You’re one good shag, Maggie Jones. Wanna go again?” he asked in a comical voice.

Then he reached up and tickled my ribs and stomach for a moment before I wriggled free.

“Aren’t you going home now?” I asked, not really intending for it to sound as cruel as it did.

“For fuck’s sake, Maggie, don’t start that shit,” John said, making an annoyed face and crawling off me so he could go to the restroom.

“I’m sorry,” I called out. “I just mean, that you are going to have to go home.”

He didn’t respond. He walked back into my living area and bent down on the floor searching for the cigarettes in the pocket of his pants. He pulled his underpants back on and walked back over to the sofa, where I was still laying. He slapped my leg for me to move over so he could sit down and then he lit up a cigarette. And after taking a long puff, he finally answered me.

“Why do you want to send me home, love?” he asked, sounding sincerely hurt.

I felt awful for starting this conversation after the beautiful experience we had just had, but we had to talk about it. We just couldn’t avoid it any longer.

“I don’t want to send you home, John. It’s inevitable. You’re going home. You know it. And I know it. You can’t stay here.”

“Christ Maggie, I just want to be with you.”

“You’re married, John,” I said flatly.

“Oh, enough of that shit already,” he said, suddenly angry.

“Shit? Shit? How can you say that?” I asked, standing up and going over to pull his shirt on over my naked body as I was quickly gathering goose bumps.

“I’ve told you, I don’t love Cyn anymore. You’re just using her for an excuse.”

“An excuse? Yes, John, I’d say you being married is a pretty big fucking excuse for us not to be together!” I paced back and forth beside the couch where he was sitting.

John shook his head.

“You must’ve forgotten I know all about you,” he said condescendingly. “You’re not so bloody innocent yourself, you know. I don’t know what happened in your life to suddenly make you feel so fuckin’ superior to everyone, but I know deep down, you’re a hell of a lot more like me than you’d like to admit to yourself, or to anyone else for that matter.”

“Maybe I used to be, John, but I’ve grown up.”

“Where? I don’t see that you’ve grown up at all,” he said as he squinted his eyes and looked very intently at me. “No. You know what I do see?” he took a long puff on his cigarette, blowing the smoke out in rings. “I see someone who is torn up with want for me. I see someone who can barely fucking function when she’s around me. I see someone who’s not going to be bloody happy with anyone but me. And I see someone who knows as well as I do that Cyn is not the fucking problem here. So, what is, Maggie? I want you. And you want me. So, what the hell is stopping us then?”

At that moment I stopped pacing and broke down. How did he know me so well? It was like he could read my thoughts. Like he could see right through into my soul. It was frightening and much too intense to bear. Tears began to spill down my cheeks as I began to weep. John stood and took me into his arms.

“Christ love, don’t cry. It fuckin’ kills me to see you like this. Just tell me what the problem is. Please. I’m begging you here.”

He walked me back over to the sofa and sat down pulling me onto his lap.

“Oh, John. Why does it have to be like this?” I asked between sobs.

He reached up and wiped the tears from my cheeks and then he kissed my forehead lovingly, but said nothing.

“All my life I’ve fallen for boys I can’t have. But falling for you has probably been the biggest mistake of my life,” I said.

He furrowed his brow.

“Because you seem to know me better than anyone I’ve ever met,” I took a deep breath trying to stop crying.

“Sorry love, I may just be thick here, but I don’t see how’s that a problem,” he said, raising his eyebrows innocently.

“It’s a problem because I can’t have you, John!”

“But you can, love! I’ve already told you about Cyn and…”

“Jesus, John, Cynthia is not the problem,” I blurted out.

I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want him to know that the real reason I didn’t want to get too close to him was not because I felt bad for Cynthia. That it was because I was worried about getting hurt. But, I was feeling so in tune with him at that moment that it only seemed natural to be completely honest.

“I knew it!” John exclaimed, a self-satisfied look curling on the sides of his mouth.

“You don’t have to look so smug,” I couldn’t help but smile at his reaction. And I rolled my eyes.

“Oh… eh, right. Sorry,” he said in a comical voice, following it with a little giggle. “I knew you weren’t too thick to see my relationship with Cyn for what it really is. I knew there just had to be another reason.”

I sighed.

“So, do tell, Maggie?”

“You’re going to tease me mercilessly,” I whined, covering my face with my hands.

“Come on, you don’t know that,” he said, pretending to sound hurt.

I raised an eyebrow at him and he giggled.

“All right, all right. I’ll try not to poke fun,” he smiled. “Please, love?”

I took a deep breath and turned my face away from him. I was too embarrassed to look at him while I said it.

“The real reason we can’t be together is not because I feel bad for Cynthia, though I do…” I lowered my voice, “But more than that… I’m afraid of being the one to get hurt.”

“Maggie,” he grabbed my chin with one hand and turned my face toward him, “I would never hurt you.”

“Wouldn’t you, John? You’re not exactly saving Cynthia any pain.”

“Now you know that’s not bloody fair. It’s different with me and her.”

“How? She’s your wife. You made a commitment to her.”

“Look, Maggie, when Cyn and I got together we did love each other, all right? At least, we thought we did. But what the hell did we know, you know? We were just young and stupid. And then she got pregnant. I wasn’t ready to be a husband and I sure as hell wasn’t ready to be a dad, but I couldn’t see that I had any other choice. I’d made me bed and I would have to lie in it. So I did. And there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish things were different, but they’re just not. You know, I wish I could love Cyn the way she’s loved me through the years. I wish I could be there for her and Julian the way I bloody well know they need me to be there, but I can’t. And even if I could, I don’t know how,” John’s voice became a little shaky.

He cleared his throat and swallowed hard. I kissed him on the cheek and he went on.

“We’ve just grown apart, Cyn and me. We’re completely different people now than we were when we first met. She’s not oblivious to it. She’s as unhappy as I am. But Brian doesn’t think it would be a good idea for us to divorce or even to separate right now. He’s concerned with how it would look in the papers and that.”

“So Brian is the reason you two are miserable? I don’t buy it, John. You’re not married to Brian. If you and Cynthia really want to divorce, divorce,” I said.

“Well, until recently there’s been no real reason to divorce. I mean, being unhappy’s not really a reason is it? Most married people I know aren’t very happy in their marriage.”

“You don’t think all the women you’ve slept with are a reason to get a divorce? Cynthia doesn’t deserve to be cheated on like that.”

“Come off it. Those birds didn’t mean anything to me. And I think if Cyn knew about ‘em she’d agree that they didn’t matter in the long run. Because I didn’t love any of ‘em. It was just a quick shag with them. Now… if she knew that you and I’ve been together… that’d probably be a different story wouldn’t it?”

“Because we’re friends?” I asked.

“No. ‘Cause I love you, Maggie.”

No comments:

Post a Comment