Beatleorgie: The Biggest Blasts
There hasn't been enough bawdy sex around here lately. Let's remedy that. Paul finally gets his chance to have the others all on him at once. NC-17 ADULTS ONLY PLEASE!!! DISCLAIMER: I have no idea what John thought brought the band closer
The Biggest Blasts
Awe, God, those weird memories of debauchery amidst the madness. I guess having the opportunity to get that all out of my system might have in the long run, been a blessing. I mean, it is nearly everyone's fantasy to be able to have all this wild sex they want and I can say I'm one of the few who achieved it. Once it was achieved, I didn't need it anymore. It was done. I was finished, well, at least with that really crazy stuff. Been there. Done that. Had the orgasm. Or orgasms sometimes.
I don't think there was anything really wrong with what we did. I mean, it's not like we went around raping people. All those girls were ready willing and able. And what about the boys? What about each other? Well, some of have said to me once that it was probably the acid. When you're on acid sex with just the other gender doesn't make sense. That much is true. I can state that from experience but these same people were trying to dismiss all the sexual experimentation in the 60s as a result of the drug culture and nothing more.
Now, I can say that I know the two went hand in hand, drugs and sex, but it wasn't all about that. Different sexual orientations have been with us since ancient times and it was about them being liberated in a way for the first time ever in our history. Letting that part of yourself free if you were able.
And it wasn't about us all selfishly achieving our own orgasms either. Some of our escapades had genuine caring and consideration behind them. If one of us had always wanted to try something, sometimes John was there to lend a hand to help make it happen. He wasn't just a leering pervert looking to get off. If he knew you were curious about something, he'd see what he could do about it and sometimes, he'd surprise you with it. He was just always good at that sort of thing and he never gets acknowledged for it.
I guess in hindsight I can see from way back in our school days, if there was a bird you wanted to try and pull, John would often be the one who'd arrange for you to be alone with her in some classroom helping put away the supplies or something and what's more, he'd often turn the lights off on you two so you'd be alone in the dark together. Afterward he'd come up to you smiling, “How'd it go? What happened after I left? I bet you got something good.” There was a lot of that and it was fun while we were still in our teens.
I guess now I can see how it continued until well into adulthood and our sexual taste had grown so much more broader then copping a feel in a coat closet.
Probably the most extreme moment I think I've ever experienced this side of John was just before the Summer of Love, during the recording of Pepper. We had a meeting at my house where it was just the four of us discussing and working out where we wanted to go with this new album we were recording. Some of us had just started to grow facial hair and it was a novelty. I think George was the first who grew a mustache and John followed him with that Victorian Watchmaker look.
I think now in retrospect I could say there was something funny about the way John was acting during that meeting though it was hardly noticeable from his usual behavior. I think all of them were acting a bit off but John especially. It was all so subtle that I didn't even think about it until much afterward. George kept drifting off by himself, slowly walking away to use the loo and then taking his time to come back, often standing there looking at something hanging on my wall before he'd rejoin us. Nothing unusual in that though I can now see that he was doing it quiet more often then was normal for him.
Ringo just sitting there looking like a puppy waiting to get petted. Nothing much different about that though he seemed to be making eye contact with John quite a bit. Well, I didn't really care much if they were up to anything. It wasn't effecting much.
But John? Well, it's hard to describe how he seemed to be behaving. You'd have to be familiar with all his subtle mannerisms of which he had many. For example, I'd be in the middle of a monologue, describing what I'd like to achieve with say, a horn section, hoping to raise the enthusiasm of the rest of the group to share in my awesome musical vision. When I'd be done, I'd look at each of them one at a time to gauge their reaction. John was sitting right next to my left and when I turned my head to face him, his mustache was practically in my nose though his posture was one of a relaxed man sitting in a laid back manner on my couch. I'd even feel a hair or two from his lip brushing my skin. Then he'd simply lick his own face very quickly though the fact that he did it right when I happened to be a heartbeat next to him did register in my mind.
He kept it up with all these other subtle things. Turning his body slightly so it turned into mine. His legs cross with his foot pointed at me. He wasn't trying to touch me or anything lewd. His hands stayed either on his lap or across his chest unless he was smoking, but it did seem like he was slowly letting himself sink into me even though I had done nothing to encourage him.
When we were finished, I had basically pointed out that now touring was done for good, without it's pressures and time constraints we really could focus on taking our music to new levels and I could tell everyone was at least in agreement on that in principle. It seemed we all had the feeling we were on the beginning of a new era with ourselves and taking steps to control its direction. At some point shortly after that, the meeting was done. We all took a deep breath and began to relax. Someone produced a joint and everyone sort of sank back into themselves for a moment before we were going to get up and move on to our next engagements.
John sort of sank back on the couch with a huge sigh glad that the formal part of the day was now over as he hit his turn at the smoke before handing it over to me. As he passed, he drawled, “I do miss certain things though about the touring, though. There are these little things we never talk about that are gone now. I sort of been thinking about those and I miss them.”
“Are you saying you'd still rather go on a tour then again?” I asked as I took my hit from him.
“Well,” He hesitated for a second. “No. Not that. I am needing something to fill that void in my life left by not touring but what I'm talking about are those spontaneous things that used to happen that don't anymore and haven't since last summer when we stopped touring.”
“Like what, John?” Ringo asked.
“Well,” He hesitated again before he just blurted out, “Those orgasms.” I guess coming from John, no one was surprised at his bawdy sentiment.
“You mean you haven't had an orgasm since we stopped touring last summer?” I chuckled and I could hear the others doing the same. “That I don't believe.”
“Well, I had some incredible ones on those tours. Never to be repeated moments,” John clarified. “I don't see them ever getting that good ever again unless similar circumstances align just right.”
“What type of circumstances?” Ringo wanted to know. “Is it a certain girl you miss?”
“Not exactly,” John hem-hawed. “It was more like.....well, you want to know the truth? Like one time we all were in the bathroom and I started messing about with all of you and then you all sort of got on me at once. Well, that was fantastic for me. Mind blowing.”
We all remembered that. I know I never thought about it much after it happened. None of us ever mentioned it again either.
John went on. “Or that time you all let me give each of you blow jobs. That was fun. I never had anything like that happen ever before in my life.”
We all were sort of quiet but I could tell that everyone was reliving these naughty memories John was bringing up.
“Oh, come on,” John cried. “I can't be the only one who thinks about that. It was just like our wanking sessions only now we were more grown up. How come we never do those any more either? They sort
of stopped with the touring too.”
“Well,” I offered. “I thought it was because we all had outgrown masturbating.”
John smiled at that. A quiet smile like the Mona Lisa's, wrought with meaning and undertones. “I don't think anyone ever outgrows it. They just don't need it for the moment.”
We all sort of chuckled at that.
John then carried on with this theme of conversation. He leaned a little closer to me, putting that mustache just a hair's breath from my own skin and asked in a low voice, “What was your favorite orgasm then?”
I was sort of taken aback by his question. “What?” was all I could manage to stammer out.
“You all heard me,” John replied. “Care to share?”
“I think mine was with those two black chicks. What were their names again?” Ringo volunteered. “They sang backup in that group we toured with. You remember, don't you?”
George said some ladies names and that must have answered Ringo's question.
John wouldn't let up on me. “So, how about you, Paul? Which one was your favorite?”
I swallowed. “I really never picked a favorite. I mean, they all were enjoyable pretty much, weren't they?”
“Ever have Ringo give you a blow job?” John asked in a sultry voice. “He's really good at it. He knows how to do it.”
“Well, who can remember who had what in whose mouth?”
They all laughed when I said that.
“I bet I know what some of the good ones you've had involved,” John muttered. “I bet your behind was getting fucked and your titties were getting fondled.” With that he kissed my chest smoothly and quickly right through my clothes.
“John, do you just want some sex from me?” I blurted out loud to be funny.
“If I wanted sex from you, you'd be naked already,” John responded right before he planted that mustache of his on my lips.
I let him. I kissed him back. There was no harm in that and it was only the others around. I could see George get up and leave the room out of the corner of my eye. He may have been on the pretense of using the loo but I knew he was just giving us a moment of privacy. Besides, with the meeting over, he'd probably be leaving soon anyway.
Ringo? I hadn't really been paying much attention to him. Even when I noticed him getting up and then kneeling on the floor near John and I. That is until I felt a pair of hands fumbling with my belt while John had me in one of his lip locks. I opened my mouth to make a cry of protest or inquiry and John whispered, “It's okay. Just let him. Okay?” Then he put his tongue in my mouth and his hand sliding up and down my chest getting my shirt buttons open. It was pretty relaxing to just be sitting there comfortably on my couch with John's hands and mouth working on me and feeling Ringo trying to get my pants down, then fingers gripping me between my thighs, stroking slowly until a pair of warm wet lips wrapped themselves around me. Yeah, I wasn't going to object to that.
I sighed when John lowered his head to put his face in my chest, feeling his fuzzy lip fur tickling me as his tongue lapped against my nipples. “You like that?” He asked more then once. As Ringo was making me swell and rise up, I moaned to show my appreciation. “I think he likes it,” He said to Ringo. “But his bum is being neglected. You know how much he loves having his bum stimulated.” Then to me, John commanded, “Roll over.”
“Huh?”
“Roll over. Show us your bum. You know you want to.”
I complied, curious as to what he was up to. Ringo never took his fingers off my private parts as I
turned and sort of got down on all fours with my elbows on my couch and my knees on the floor.
“You ever been fucked in the butt by George?” John asked me
“Uh....nope. Never,”I answered which was the truth. George and I never really did things like that to each other.
“Well, you've been missing something. He's got the nicest dick for butt fucking. He really does. Have you ever seen it up close and personal before?”
The next thing I knew, John literally had George by the dick standing over me. His trousers were gone and John's hand had been stroking him while he was kissing me as well. When did George even come back into the room? I wondered. I hadn't noticed him at all. Should I have been paying more attention? Those were the thoughts going through my head as I crouched there on my couch with Ringo on the floor beneath me stroking me and John hanging by my face.
George actually stepped like he was ready to mount me. “You okay with this, Paul?” He asked in a low voice ripe with concern.
“Yeah. I guess so,” I replied closing my eyes. I will admit, whatever steps John took to make this scene happen, I was ready for it even if I had been caught off guard.
That's when I felt George leaning over me and something funny happening at my rear just before I could tell he plunged right into me.
“Oh, God,” I moaned. George moaned back and pumped once or twice slowly until he was sure he was in right.
Ringo grabbed a cushion from my couch to prop himself sort of up on and then I felt his mouth wrapped on me again sucking and moving up and down over me. George began to thrust slowly a few times and John was hanging at my face, kissing me and mumbling dirty things to himself.
How long did that go on? I'm not sure. Ringo's mouth on me. George's dick in me. John's tongue licking me like an eager puppy. It was only a matter of time before I build up a dam and then finally burst in an explosion all over Ringo's face. Feeling the heat sliding inside of me and out of me, I could tell George must have had his own explosion too.
I was lost in that tidal wave of quivering and rushing bliss. My chest heaved as I almost lost my breath. Then John's furry lips whispered in my ear, “That was the best, wasn't it?”
I only know that I had to climb up onto that couch to sit as my knees were trembling and it wasn't easy trying not to step on Ringo. George had one of my towels ready for me, thankfully and John lit a cigarette and gave it to me once I was slumped down on my backside.
“See? I think we all needed this,” John remarked. “I think it's good for us as a band.”
I snorted. “You just wanted some sex.”
John looked contrite. “Me? Nobody was even touching my dick. It was all for you.”
“Are you saying you still want your dick touched?” I joked.
“Know what I'd really like to try? Know what I always wanted to do? With you three?” He asked.
“Amaze me, “I replied.
“Well,” Then he hesitated by taking a deep breath. “I always wanted to have my ass fucked while I was fucking another ass. Just to see if we could get that coordinated.”
“What about the other one?”
“Oh, I'd be sucking on his dick.” Then he leered at me. “You know how I love to suck. Can't leave that out.”
And on we went with a bit of a bawdy conversation before the others had to leave. John kept going on how doing that was all good for us as a band. Let him keep saying it to himself.
I do know that when he kept asking me, “Wasn't that good for you? Wasn't it? Admit it. It was.” I did
concede and say yes partially because it was pretty true and partially just to get him off my back. John could be wicked about that sort of stuff.
I don't know how exactly it happened. I don't even remember the slow buildup and individual seduction of each of us into doing it for him but somehow, some days later, I ended up crouched on my floor in front of my couch with John fucking me in the ass. George had mounted John so he could screw John in the ass and the two of them were having a time trying to get it together. Ringo was splayed on the couch in front because, “He has the nicest dick for sucking on,” according to John. My problem was Ringo's legs in front of me. When John and George thrusted together, I'd sometimes bump my head on Ringo's knees.
Who knows what we all had ingested to make us go along with this idea.
When John first started fucking me, he had been reaching over to my chest to play with my nipples. Once Ringo got his dick out and in John's face, John's hands were busy elsewhere so I will confess to sort of getting into the mood of the whole thing and rubbing my own chest slightly while John engulfed me. I will admit, there was this tingle of excitement in the air that I think we all were enjoying. I at least was getting into the spirit.
I know my buildup was coming and right after I exploded all over my stomach and the towels I had the foresight to spread out beneath us, I could tell John was about to come too. His noises were changing, getting louder as his body moved in rhythm. Finally he just let it all out yelling and twisting and moaning.
Since I really couldn't see George from where I was crouched, I don't know exactly what he was doing but I do remember noticing Ringo was ready and John eagerly lapped every bit up making sloppy sounds indicating his enjoyment of the whole spectacle.
John collapsed in a heap among us sighing and exclaiming, “I'm in Beatles Paradise.” I do remember catching George's eyes rolling at that moment.
Once John was snoring on the couch with all of us still intertwined around him, we all just sort of stared at him, his mustache and crooked glasses as he sighed in his sleep.
“Well, he seems finally satisfied,” Ringo remarked.
I do remember after the others left, covering John up with a blanket. Sitting next to him and turning on the telly. Watching it while he snoozed for a little bit more with his head right by my thigh. Once he awoke and saw where he was, he put his head in my lap. I didn't object and tousled his hair a bit.
“Mmmm....that was fun,” he mumbled and we left it all at that.
The Biggest Blasts
Awe, God, those weird memories of debauchery amidst the madness. I guess having the opportunity to get that all out of my system might have in the long run, been a blessing. I mean, it is nearly everyone's fantasy to be able to have all this wild sex they want and I can say I'm one of the few who achieved it. Once it was achieved, I didn't need it anymore. It was done. I was finished, well, at least with that really crazy stuff. Been there. Done that. Had the orgasm. Or orgasms sometimes.
I don't think there was anything really wrong with what we did. I mean, it's not like we went around raping people. All those girls were ready willing and able. And what about the boys? What about each other? Well, some of have said to me once that it was probably the acid. When you're on acid sex with just the other gender doesn't make sense. That much is true. I can state that from experience but these same people were trying to dismiss all the sexual experimentation in the 60s as a result of the drug culture and nothing more.
Now, I can say that I know the two went hand in hand, drugs and sex, but it wasn't all about that. Different sexual orientations have been with us since ancient times and it was about them being liberated in a way for the first time ever in our history. Letting that part of yourself free if you were able.
And it wasn't about us all selfishly achieving our own orgasms either. Some of our escapades had genuine caring and consideration behind them. If one of us had always wanted to try something, sometimes John was there to lend a hand to help make it happen. He wasn't just a leering pervert looking to get off. If he knew you were curious about something, he'd see what he could do about it and sometimes, he'd surprise you with it. He was just always good at that sort of thing and he never gets acknowledged for it.
I guess in hindsight I can see from way back in our school days, if there was a bird you wanted to try and pull, John would often be the one who'd arrange for you to be alone with her in some classroom helping put away the supplies or something and what's more, he'd often turn the lights off on you two so you'd be alone in the dark together. Afterward he'd come up to you smiling, “How'd it go? What happened after I left? I bet you got something good.” There was a lot of that and it was fun while we were still in our teens.
I guess now I can see how it continued until well into adulthood and our sexual taste had grown so much more broader then copping a feel in a coat closet.
Probably the most extreme moment I think I've ever experienced this side of John was just before the Summer of Love, during the recording of Pepper. We had a meeting at my house where it was just the four of us discussing and working out where we wanted to go with this new album we were recording. Some of us had just started to grow facial hair and it was a novelty. I think George was the first who grew a mustache and John followed him with that Victorian Watchmaker look.
I think now in retrospect I could say there was something funny about the way John was acting during that meeting though it was hardly noticeable from his usual behavior. I think all of them were acting a bit off but John especially. It was all so subtle that I didn't even think about it until much afterward. George kept drifting off by himself, slowly walking away to use the loo and then taking his time to come back, often standing there looking at something hanging on my wall before he'd rejoin us. Nothing unusual in that though I can now see that he was doing it quiet more often then was normal for him.
Ringo just sitting there looking like a puppy waiting to get petted. Nothing much different about that though he seemed to be making eye contact with John quite a bit. Well, I didn't really care much if they were up to anything. It wasn't effecting much.
But John? Well, it's hard to describe how he seemed to be behaving. You'd have to be familiar with all his subtle mannerisms of which he had many. For example, I'd be in the middle of a monologue, describing what I'd like to achieve with say, a horn section, hoping to raise the enthusiasm of the rest of the group to share in my awesome musical vision. When I'd be done, I'd look at each of them one at a time to gauge their reaction. John was sitting right next to my left and when I turned my head to face him, his mustache was practically in my nose though his posture was one of a relaxed man sitting in a laid back manner on my couch. I'd even feel a hair or two from his lip brushing my skin. Then he'd simply lick his own face very quickly though the fact that he did it right when I happened to be a heartbeat next to him did register in my mind.
He kept it up with all these other subtle things. Turning his body slightly so it turned into mine. His legs cross with his foot pointed at me. He wasn't trying to touch me or anything lewd. His hands stayed either on his lap or across his chest unless he was smoking, but it did seem like he was slowly letting himself sink into me even though I had done nothing to encourage him.
When we were finished, I had basically pointed out that now touring was done for good, without it's pressures and time constraints we really could focus on taking our music to new levels and I could tell everyone was at least in agreement on that in principle. It seemed we all had the feeling we were on the beginning of a new era with ourselves and taking steps to control its direction. At some point shortly after that, the meeting was done. We all took a deep breath and began to relax. Someone produced a joint and everyone sort of sank back into themselves for a moment before we were going to get up and move on to our next engagements.
John sort of sank back on the couch with a huge sigh glad that the formal part of the day was now over as he hit his turn at the smoke before handing it over to me. As he passed, he drawled, “I do miss certain things though about the touring, though. There are these little things we never talk about that are gone now. I sort of been thinking about those and I miss them.”
“Are you saying you'd still rather go on a tour then again?” I asked as I took my hit from him.
“Well,” He hesitated for a second. “No. Not that. I am needing something to fill that void in my life left by not touring but what I'm talking about are those spontaneous things that used to happen that don't anymore and haven't since last summer when we stopped touring.”
“Like what, John?” Ringo asked.
“Well,” He hesitated again before he just blurted out, “Those orgasms.” I guess coming from John, no one was surprised at his bawdy sentiment.
“You mean you haven't had an orgasm since we stopped touring last summer?” I chuckled and I could hear the others doing the same. “That I don't believe.”
“Well, I had some incredible ones on those tours. Never to be repeated moments,” John clarified. “I don't see them ever getting that good ever again unless similar circumstances align just right.”
“What type of circumstances?” Ringo wanted to know. “Is it a certain girl you miss?”
“Not exactly,” John hem-hawed. “It was more like.....well, you want to know the truth? Like one time we all were in the bathroom and I started messing about with all of you and then you all sort of got on me at once. Well, that was fantastic for me. Mind blowing.”
We all remembered that. I know I never thought about it much after it happened. None of us ever mentioned it again either.
John went on. “Or that time you all let me give each of you blow jobs. That was fun. I never had anything like that happen ever before in my life.”
We all were sort of quiet but I could tell that everyone was reliving these naughty memories John was bringing up.
“Oh, come on,” John cried. “I can't be the only one who thinks about that. It was just like our wanking sessions only now we were more grown up. How come we never do those any more either? They sort
of stopped with the touring too.”
“Well,” I offered. “I thought it was because we all had outgrown masturbating.”
John smiled at that. A quiet smile like the Mona Lisa's, wrought with meaning and undertones. “I don't think anyone ever outgrows it. They just don't need it for the moment.”
We all sort of chuckled at that.
John then carried on with this theme of conversation. He leaned a little closer to me, putting that mustache just a hair's breath from my own skin and asked in a low voice, “What was your favorite orgasm then?”
I was sort of taken aback by his question. “What?” was all I could manage to stammer out.
“You all heard me,” John replied. “Care to share?”
“I think mine was with those two black chicks. What were their names again?” Ringo volunteered. “They sang backup in that group we toured with. You remember, don't you?”
George said some ladies names and that must have answered Ringo's question.
John wouldn't let up on me. “So, how about you, Paul? Which one was your favorite?”
I swallowed. “I really never picked a favorite. I mean, they all were enjoyable pretty much, weren't they?”
“Ever have Ringo give you a blow job?” John asked in a sultry voice. “He's really good at it. He knows how to do it.”
“Well, who can remember who had what in whose mouth?”
They all laughed when I said that.
“I bet I know what some of the good ones you've had involved,” John muttered. “I bet your behind was getting fucked and your titties were getting fondled.” With that he kissed my chest smoothly and quickly right through my clothes.
“John, do you just want some sex from me?” I blurted out loud to be funny.
“If I wanted sex from you, you'd be naked already,” John responded right before he planted that mustache of his on my lips.
I let him. I kissed him back. There was no harm in that and it was only the others around. I could see George get up and leave the room out of the corner of my eye. He may have been on the pretense of using the loo but I knew he was just giving us a moment of privacy. Besides, with the meeting over, he'd probably be leaving soon anyway.
Ringo? I hadn't really been paying much attention to him. Even when I noticed him getting up and then kneeling on the floor near John and I. That is until I felt a pair of hands fumbling with my belt while John had me in one of his lip locks. I opened my mouth to make a cry of protest or inquiry and John whispered, “It's okay. Just let him. Okay?” Then he put his tongue in my mouth and his hand sliding up and down my chest getting my shirt buttons open. It was pretty relaxing to just be sitting there comfortably on my couch with John's hands and mouth working on me and feeling Ringo trying to get my pants down, then fingers gripping me between my thighs, stroking slowly until a pair of warm wet lips wrapped themselves around me. Yeah, I wasn't going to object to that.
I sighed when John lowered his head to put his face in my chest, feeling his fuzzy lip fur tickling me as his tongue lapped against my nipples. “You like that?” He asked more then once. As Ringo was making me swell and rise up, I moaned to show my appreciation. “I think he likes it,” He said to Ringo. “But his bum is being neglected. You know how much he loves having his bum stimulated.” Then to me, John commanded, “Roll over.”
“Huh?”
“Roll over. Show us your bum. You know you want to.”
I complied, curious as to what he was up to. Ringo never took his fingers off my private parts as I
turned and sort of got down on all fours with my elbows on my couch and my knees on the floor.
“You ever been fucked in the butt by George?” John asked me
“Uh....nope. Never,”I answered which was the truth. George and I never really did things like that to each other.
“Well, you've been missing something. He's got the nicest dick for butt fucking. He really does. Have you ever seen it up close and personal before?”
The next thing I knew, John literally had George by the dick standing over me. His trousers were gone and John's hand had been stroking him while he was kissing me as well. When did George even come back into the room? I wondered. I hadn't noticed him at all. Should I have been paying more attention? Those were the thoughts going through my head as I crouched there on my couch with Ringo on the floor beneath me stroking me and John hanging by my face.
George actually stepped like he was ready to mount me. “You okay with this, Paul?” He asked in a low voice ripe with concern.
“Yeah. I guess so,” I replied closing my eyes. I will admit, whatever steps John took to make this scene happen, I was ready for it even if I had been caught off guard.
That's when I felt George leaning over me and something funny happening at my rear just before I could tell he plunged right into me.
“Oh, God,” I moaned. George moaned back and pumped once or twice slowly until he was sure he was in right.
Ringo grabbed a cushion from my couch to prop himself sort of up on and then I felt his mouth wrapped on me again sucking and moving up and down over me. George began to thrust slowly a few times and John was hanging at my face, kissing me and mumbling dirty things to himself.
How long did that go on? I'm not sure. Ringo's mouth on me. George's dick in me. John's tongue licking me like an eager puppy. It was only a matter of time before I build up a dam and then finally burst in an explosion all over Ringo's face. Feeling the heat sliding inside of me and out of me, I could tell George must have had his own explosion too.
I was lost in that tidal wave of quivering and rushing bliss. My chest heaved as I almost lost my breath. Then John's furry lips whispered in my ear, “That was the best, wasn't it?”
I only know that I had to climb up onto that couch to sit as my knees were trembling and it wasn't easy trying not to step on Ringo. George had one of my towels ready for me, thankfully and John lit a cigarette and gave it to me once I was slumped down on my backside.
“See? I think we all needed this,” John remarked. “I think it's good for us as a band.”
I snorted. “You just wanted some sex.”
John looked contrite. “Me? Nobody was even touching my dick. It was all for you.”
“Are you saying you still want your dick touched?” I joked.
“Know what I'd really like to try? Know what I always wanted to do? With you three?” He asked.
“Amaze me, “I replied.
“Well,” Then he hesitated by taking a deep breath. “I always wanted to have my ass fucked while I was fucking another ass. Just to see if we could get that coordinated.”
“What about the other one?”
“Oh, I'd be sucking on his dick.” Then he leered at me. “You know how I love to suck. Can't leave that out.”
And on we went with a bit of a bawdy conversation before the others had to leave. John kept going on how doing that was all good for us as a band. Let him keep saying it to himself.
I do know that when he kept asking me, “Wasn't that good for you? Wasn't it? Admit it. It was.” I did
concede and say yes partially because it was pretty true and partially just to get him off my back. John could be wicked about that sort of stuff.
I don't know how exactly it happened. I don't even remember the slow buildup and individual seduction of each of us into doing it for him but somehow, some days later, I ended up crouched on my floor in front of my couch with John fucking me in the ass. George had mounted John so he could screw John in the ass and the two of them were having a time trying to get it together. Ringo was splayed on the couch in front because, “He has the nicest dick for sucking on,” according to John. My problem was Ringo's legs in front of me. When John and George thrusted together, I'd sometimes bump my head on Ringo's knees.
Who knows what we all had ingested to make us go along with this idea.
When John first started fucking me, he had been reaching over to my chest to play with my nipples. Once Ringo got his dick out and in John's face, John's hands were busy elsewhere so I will confess to sort of getting into the mood of the whole thing and rubbing my own chest slightly while John engulfed me. I will admit, there was this tingle of excitement in the air that I think we all were enjoying. I at least was getting into the spirit.
I know my buildup was coming and right after I exploded all over my stomach and the towels I had the foresight to spread out beneath us, I could tell John was about to come too. His noises were changing, getting louder as his body moved in rhythm. Finally he just let it all out yelling and twisting and moaning.
Since I really couldn't see George from where I was crouched, I don't know exactly what he was doing but I do remember noticing Ringo was ready and John eagerly lapped every bit up making sloppy sounds indicating his enjoyment of the whole spectacle.
John collapsed in a heap among us sighing and exclaiming, “I'm in Beatles Paradise.” I do remember catching George's eyes rolling at that moment.
Once John was snoring on the couch with all of us still intertwined around him, we all just sort of stared at him, his mustache and crooked glasses as he sighed in his sleep.
“Well, he seems finally satisfied,” Ringo remarked.
I do remember after the others left, covering John up with a blanket. Sitting next to him and turning on the telly. Watching it while he snoozed for a little bit more with his head right by my thigh. Once he awoke and saw where he was, he put his head in my lap. I didn't object and tousled his hair a bit.
“Mmmm....that was fun,” he mumbled and we left it all at that.