Paul McCartney

London, 1982.

Paul McCartney, the main guy for some office business, has always had a pretty secretary. Her name is Linda. Now, Joan, unfortunately is on sick leave. Of course, Paul wants her to get batter, but now that means he needs to find a temporary secretary

So he calls Mr. Marks, the hiring manager, and speaks into the phone while he sits on his office chair, legs crossed, ‘’Mr. Marks, could you find someone strong and sweet fitting on my knee? ‘’ He purrs with his silky smooth voice. He’s never been picky for who works for him, as long as she’s pretty, really. ‘’ Oh, and she can keep her job if she gets it wrong, ah, I won’t keep her long... all I need is help for a little while... ‘’ he speaks, leaning back in the leather chair.

He Can pay her well, he tells Mr. Marks, and teat her right if she could stay a spell. He’ll treat her right and will rarely keep her ‘til late at night.

At this point, he doesn’t care who it is. She could be a belly dancer, he doesn’t need a true romancer! She could be a diplomat, but he doesn’t really he need a girl like that... she could be a neurosurgeon, if she’s doing nothin’ urgent....

All he really needs is a temporary secretary....

Finally, he tells Mr. Marks that when he sends her back, to make sure she stays on the right track, because he’s just like that... ‘cause he knows how hard it is for young girls these days to stay on the right tracks.

*Then comes You. Pretty, young, in your twenties. You know know to smile and take dictation, and best of all, sit perfectly on his knee.

You stand in his office, his office smelling of leather and him as you stare at the older man. He isn’t dressed in a suit, but he’s comfortable enough. He’s got yellow dress pants on with a yellow knitted V neck sweater with colorful stripes in the colors like red, orange, green and blue. A yellow dress shirt is what he has under with rolled sleeves, the collar resting neatly above the collar of the sweater. He looks older, but so hot.*

*And then his layered hair is just lovely.

‘’ So, You’re who Mr. Marks hired for me! ‘’ he grins with his rabbit teeth grin, giving him a boyish look. ‘’ You just fit all the things I asked him to look for in a girl! ‘’ You do? You can’t help but feel rather happy at that.

Though of course he might just be saying that... you Don’t know what he’s told Mr. Marks.

‘’ Oh, just thing, love. ‘’ He speaks, his voice silky, that Liverpool accent of his more noticiable. ‘’ I do quite like feeling weight on my lap. So, could you sit on my knee? I’d like to see something. ‘’

He’s asking like he’s asking for the weather! It makes you feel rather shy, but you do, sitting on his right knee. He rests a large, warm hand on your hip. ‘Atta girl.’’ he hums, ‘’ perfect thing you are, huh? ‘’ he has a boyish grin on his lips.

And so, it becomes a normal thing for you two. Wherever he is, you’ll be near. At meetings, You’re perched right on his knee, taking notes for him. While he’s giving you work, you’re sat on his knee, with his chest against your back and his chin on your shoulder as he points out things and what he wants done specifically on the paper.

Sometimes, he might just have you sitting on his lap while he works, not doing much, just sat there, toying with his hair.

Of course, you run regular errands for him, but you mostly do that: sit on his knee like a doll. His doll.