(18+) 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Masturbation, Caught, Oral Sex, Fluff, Smut, One Shot. 𝐒𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 1964 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Working as an assistant to the Beatles is exhausting, when they finally take off for a few days to work on their next single you find yourself with enough time for relaxation.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
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You finally had a moment to breathe, your time on tour with the Beatles had felt suffocating. You were grateful that Brian Epstein had granted you the opportunity to travel along with the boys while on tour, but Christ almighty you were beginning to burn out at both ends and it was driving you insane. You barely had a moment to catch your breath let alone take care of your own needs.
You were a human being after all and being the only girl in this sausage fest was stressful for your hormones. While the boys would take girls back to their room, you would stay up and make sure the girls didn't cause any trouble and were able to be snuck out without the bother from the crowd. It typically ended with you sleeping on the floor in the hall and being nudged away by a boot from one of the boys or softly shaken awake by one of the hotel employees.
But today you finally had a moment to yourself seeing as they had five days off to fly back to London to do some recording and the head back. Five whole days to yourself, no babysitting, no going to meetings, no doing damage control after one of their cheeky retorts to the press. Just you alone in your hotel room.
You busied yourself through out the day with various chores that you needed to take care of like ringing up your parents to let them know how you were surviving and scheduling some meetings when tour got back in session, but after you soon found yourself growing bored of the book you had picked up and missed the constant go of tour life. You soon found yourself sprawled out on your bed, skirt kicked off, leaving your panties exposed, and blouse half unbuttoned to expose your bra clad breasts.
Your mind began to wander as you absent mindedly rubbed your thighs and stomach, teasing yourself. You couldn't help but think back to tour, posted in the hallway waiting for a haphazardly dressed girl to scuttle out of the room. You thought about the time you glanced up from your book and saw Paul still sweaty and messy haired with pink cheeks grinning down at you after one particular night. You bit your lip and whimpered as your fingers brushed over your panties, you'd always thought Paul was the most attractive, who didn't? That was the problem actually, everyone thought Paul was the cute one. He constantly had girls fanning over him and you would sit and wait for them to leave his room so you could escort them back and then return with a cold bottle of coke for Paul where the two of you would just talk.
You added more pressure to the dark wet spot that had developed on your panties and your hips bucked against your hand while you let out a soft whiny moan. You thought of Paul, with his cheeks red and his typically perfect mop top hair a complete mess while he glanced up from between your legs and pulled your panties to the side, finally dipping a finger into your wet folds. You let out a gasp and slipped your bra off, exposing your breasts to the cool air and kneading them with one hand while your other rubbed slow circles around your clit.
