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It was annoying for the airline to lose any of your bags, to the common person. It was disastrous for the airline to lose your bag, as a Beatle. It was the end of the world to have a friend like John Lennon who replaces your bag with a stranger’s as a prank.
“I can’t believe you’ve done this, John,” Paul huffed, completely annoyed at John. They were in the car on the way to the hotel. They had just arrived in the town for a concert they had planned but before that day, they had rehearsals.
“Oh, come off it, it’s not like you were left with only the clothes on your back, like I did,” John replied. It was true, Paul did not only have one outfit of clothes like John who had been left without a suitcase entirely. But honestly, Paul would've preferred John’s fate as opposed to the pink and girlish suitcase he had now which he didn’t have much hopes would have any clothes for a man.
“Still, you’re a massive prick,” Paul said, trying to get the last word.
“Ah, you love it,” John laughed. Paul didn’t respond.
The situation was even worse than Paul had imagined. As he sat there, having turned the suitcase inside out and completely emptied it onto his hotel bed, he couldn’t find anything, not even pants, not even a plain unisex shirt. It was full to the brim with blouses, skirts, and dresses. Plus an undergarment bag that Paul didn’t even want to think of right now.
Paul finally gave up and sighed. Well as long as nothing happened to his current clothes he should be fine until his real bag was returned to him. Until then, so spills, no sweat, he had to be careful.
-
Of course. Of fucking course.
There was no being careful with John Lennon. John, who just spilled his lunch wine onto Paul’s shirt and pants. John, who didn’t realize how dire the situation was because he wasn’t the one in the fucking situation. Typical Lennon.
“Cmon, just put this on and there, no harm done” John said, picking up a random blouse from the pile and throwing it into Paul's hands. Paul looked at the blouse. It was honestly horrendous. An ugly yellow with even worse embellishments.
“John, are you serious? I would never wear this,” Paul scolded, John frowned and anticipated that Paul was so set on not wearing girl clothes. “It’s too gaudy.”
To the clear surprise of John, Paul started rummaging through the clothes. Paul had finally resorted to simply wearing the woman’s clothes. What else could he do? Show up to rehearsals naked? He just had to suck it up and do the best he could with what he had.
Paul picked a few pieces and walked into the bathroom to change. To his surprise, a lot of what he picked fit. Paul supposed he had a rather small frame. Paul tried the dresses first as they were the most modest. They fit but they didn’t compliment him well. They had no shape and made him look ‘blobbish’. Aside from that, Paul thought, dresses were too feminine. He had to at least try looking like a man. So he set aside the dresses and tried on the skirts. Yes much better, if he squinted and thought delusionally enough, it looked like he was simply wearing shorts. So he chose a velvet skirt with some stretch in the fabric as that would make it easier to move about. The stretch of the fabric however was both to his disappointment and joy, as it really accentuated his bum and waist much more than pants did.
Next was the shirt. A lot of the blouses in the suitcase were hideous in Paul’s opinion. Too many of them were lowrise or wide necks, which wouldn’t do. A few were entirely too revealing or sheer. So Paul settled for the best option which was a button up blouse, it was just unfortunate that it was a little see through and had cherries on it. And that the buttons didn’t go all the way up and ended half way up, he supposes it was for cleavage.
Paul finally walks out of the bathroom in his new ensemble. Paul feels, well, as good as he can about it. Paul walks over to his bed and begins putting on his beatle boots. He was partially glad that the boots had some heel to them, so it didn’t look entirely off when he walked out.
“Putting on your heels, darling?” John teased when he saw Paul putting on his shoes.
“Quit it, jerk,” Paul said, avoiding looking at John in the eyes or face. It would be so awkward to see his reaction.
“You look so pretty…” John said more quietly. “Almost like a real girl.”
“John! I said "quit it!”” Paul said furiously while blushing, walking past John but purposely bumping into him to show his frustration. Paul walked towards the door, John followed.
“We’re going to be late if you don't stop laughing,”
“Who said I’m laughing?” John said, crowding into Paul space. Before Paul got another word out, John grabbed the door, opened it and walked out.
“Don’t forget your purse, princess,” John said as he left. Paul stood there in shock and huffed angrily before following John to the car waiting downstairs.
The car ride to the venue was quiet, which Paul was thankful for. He didn’t know how many of John’s jokes he could take before he snapped at him. Matter of fact, John was sitting as far as he could from Paul in the car, even crossing his leg in his lap to sit even farther away.
When they arrived, John sprinted out the car as fast as he could which surprised Paul. Paul was even more surprised when he turned and saw John outside his door, reaching for the handle.
“Ma’am,” John said, reaching out a hand for Paul to grab like a gentleman, which he was anything but for continuing to humiliate Paul.
“John, I said stop,” Paul growled and slapped away John’s hand. He slightly regretted doing that as getting out of the car with a skirt was harder than with pants.
They walked in and the reaction to Paul’s outfit was instant. Many of the people they walked past stared, a few pointed. Hell, Paul even heard whispers. It made him feel so self conscious, and to make matters a hundred times worse, John wrapped an arm around Paul’s waist like he was his girlfriend or something.
“John! It’s not funny, stop!” Paul pushed John away slightly.
“Aw princess, don’t get mad,” John teased and opened the door for Paul, once again like the gentleman he wasn’t.
The other lads were good enough to not mention what Paul was wearing, but Paul could still feel their burning questions.
Paul tried ignoring John for the rehearsal, he really did, but John made it impossible. When Paul was tuning up his bass, John was there behind him, trying to tune it for him like Paul wasn’t the most famous bassist that year. John’s arms wrapped around him and whispering directions in his ears, it made Paul’s hair stand up on end. Paul quickly shooed him away, but it only made matters worse.
“Paul, do you mind adjusting my mic?” Ringo asked, who was seated in his stool behind the drums.
“Sure,” Paul responded as he walked over to the mic. He bent over to adjust the tallness, but just as he bent, he felt his bum get pinched. He yelped and turned around immediately to see who would even dare touch him like that. He had a sneaking suspicion who it was already.
“John!” Paul screamed and began swatting at John, who was nearly dying of laughter. The swats weren’t full hits or punches, but they were hard enough to be felt.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” John said, wiping a tear from his eye, and standing up fully. That's when Paul noticed it. John had a boner.
Paul looked around. What could have caused this? There was no one in the room currently besides the four of them. There were no lewd images or pictures to be seen. And they had been too busy rehearsing to even think any dirt thoughts. The more and more Paul ruled out, the closer it dawned on him. John liked what he was seeing. And what he was seeing was Paul.
The more Paul thought back on all the jokes since Paul walked out of the bathroom, the less they seemed like jokes. Paul’s skin burned and though he should’ve been angry and fuming, he found himself with the perfect opportunity to get back at John.
Paul called for a break, though they just started and pulled John into a closet. The plan? Get John to have the clearest boner ever and force him to walk out and about everyone. Oh revenge was so sweet, thought Paul.
Once in the closet, Paul pushed John against the wall and walked up to him. Paul put his face inches away from John, staring him down, before moving closer to his ear and began whispering.
“You like what you see, Johnny?” Paul said quietly, moving John’s hands from his side to Paul’s waist and pressing them there. “Like pretending I’m a girl?”
“Y-yes,” John gulped. Paul looked down between them and saw John’s boner grow from prominently. Fuck, this was backfiring quickly. He didn’t realize John would actually admit it. What Paul had hoped would embarrass John was just making Paul more humiliated. Paul had to think quickly.
Without a second thought, Paul kissed John, hoping that John would push him back and leave embarrassed. Except this was John, whose next move could never be guessed.
Instead, John returned the kiss even more eagerly. John spun them around so that now Paul’s back was on the wall and held Paul’s head and he sucked Paul’s tongue into his mouth.
Paul quickly pulled away, seeing his plan had backfired and walked away quickly.
“Where are you going, princess?” John asked as Paul left.
Well the plan had somewhat worked. John had walked out of the closet with a full hard on. However, he must’ve seen what Paul did as him making a move so now John would not let up on Paul at all. Throughout the rehearsal John would get too close for comfort. He would let his touches on Paul linger. He stared at Paul more and shamelessly looked over his body. So this is what it's like to be a bird, mused Paul.
The worst of it though, was John continued using pet names for John, specifically “Princess”. Paul hated it. It made his body hot and made him see red. After the 4th time John used it, Paul finally snapped.
“John! Stop calling me that!” Paul practically yelled as they packed up their instruments. “I’m not a girl!”
“Mmm, but you like it, don’t you? I can see how it makes your heart race,” John said, crowding once again into Paul’s space.
“No, I don’t,” Paul said, he meant it to sound firm and angry but it came out sounding breathless.
“Well there's something you like,” John said, gesturing downwards. To Paul’s shock, there was a tent in his skirt. “Cmon, let's go.” John said as he walked towards the car door and held it open for Paul. Paul had no other choice but to follow, the longer he was out here in this skirt the more looks he got.
Paul had hoped the car ride would be the same as it had been earlier, he prayed it would. But then John sat in the seat right next to Paul, and he knew he was in for a terrible 15 minutes.
At first, for a mere 2 minutes it was a regular car ride. And then John’s hand kept creeping towards Paul’s side. By minute 4, John’s hand was resting by Paul’s knees. Innocent enough, Paul supposed, he couldn’t really shoo him off just for touching his knee. But then the bastard started moving. At first it was just his thumb rubbing his outer knee in small circles. Fine enough, maybe John was just fidgeting. But then he slid his hand a little higher and just barely under the hem of the skirt. And fuuuuck, Paul couldn’t contain the hitch his breath made. John must’ve heard it and with Paul not stopping it, must’ve taken it as a greenlight because the next thing he did was start groping and grabbing at Paul’s thigh.
John’s hand felt so different than anything Paul had felt in his life and he didn't even realize it when he slightly spread his legs, moving his thigh closer to John. John continued grabbing at his thigh and squeezing sometimes testing how much farther up he could go by centimeters. Paul’s heart beat was raising, and not only that, his cock started waking up again.
Then John did something that Paul was sure would kill him. With two fingers, he started caressing Paul’s inner thigh from his knee to about half way up, then back down, and back up going up a little further. This torture went on for 4 minutes until John finally reached Paul’s crotch. John hesitated and then started running his two fingers over the tent in Paul’s skirt. It was too much, it was entirely too little, and the driver for sure had noticed they were up to something. Paul’s mind was spinning and racing but in the center of it all was John with his hands on Paul.
The car then stopped and before Paul could react, John pulled Paul’s skirt down and raced around the car to open the door for Paul, his own jacket in hand for Paul to cover his hard on. Well, Paul somewhat got what he wanted, a silent car ride.
They were silent on the way up to their hotel room. John entered the room wordlessly and headed straight for the bathroom. Paul sat down on his bed to reflect on the day’s events.
It was clear Paul had an affect on John, but John also had an affect on Paul. And Paul’s plans to prank John back had failed all day. Paul would love to still embarrass and see John squirm still, Paul thought as he looked over to the suitcase’s contents. That’s when Paul had another idea.
The new plan, Paul thought, was to make John make a fool of himself. Get him turned on, get him to say and do all these embarrassing things and leave him high and dry. It was clear that John would do a lot for a bird, so Paul just had to turn up his girlishness.
Taking off his skirt and blouse in a hurry, Paul rummaged through the undergarment bag in a hurry. Finally, a bit of luck for him that day, this stranger had packed a lingerie set that seemed like it’d fit Paul. So he quickly pulled on the black ensemble, first the lacy panties that hugged him perfectly. Next was the bra, which had small cups that Paul still didn’t fill in but it didn’t look ridiculous. Next was the garter, which was frilly with a heart. And matching the garter were also frilly socks. A quick look in the mirror to fix his hair and the garments and before he knew it he heard the bathroom door opening. He spun around and made eye contact with John, who had frozen in the doorway. Paul sauntered slowly over to him, lazily putting his arms around John’s neck and putting his face closer to John’s as if to kiss him before pausing.
“Get on your knees,” Paul said, John scrambled to obey.
“Stay.” Paul says as he walks across the hotel room to the further point.
“Crawl over to me on all fours.” Paul said casually. John does so, quickly getting on his hands and knees and crawling as quickly as he could.
“Good. Now, on your knees again. Bark.” Paul spoke.
“B-bark,” John said timidly.
“No, you can do better than that,” Paul said sternly, grabbing John’s jaw.
“Bark!” John said more confidently, and Paul swore that if John had a tail it’d be wagging. Fuck, this is backfiring again. How much of a freak was John?
“Now beg,” Paul said.
“Huh?” John questioned.
“I said, beg,” Paul said more clearly.
“Um- fuck- Paul, can I get a kiss? A peck? Anything?” John whimpered and begged, looking up at Paul with the most pathetic eyes Paul’s ever seen. Big and round and so hard to say no to, but Paul had to. If he kisses him, he might not be able to leave John high and dry like he planned.
“No. You can’t have that. Choose something else.” Paul finally spoke.
“Then, can I suck you off?” John spoke. It was perfect, embarrassing for John but beneficial for Paul, why didn’t he think of it?
“Okay,” Paul answered, and it was all the permission John needed to move. Instantly, John’s hands were groping Paul’s thighs again like they had in the car, except now John added Paul’s ass to the territory to grope. His head found its way to Paul’s crotch, as he dived in and sniffed the area while pressing kisses to the mound. Eventually these kisses turned bigger and wetter until eventually John was tongueing Paul’s dick through the panties.
John’s next move was to pull down on the waistline of the panties, only just enough for Paul’s cock to spring out. John then started with a broad lick from the base to the tip, wrapping his mouth around the tip when he got to it. He sucked lightly around the head at first, seeing and watching Paul for his reactions.
Paul couldn’t bear to look down, afraid that the sight would turn him on to a tremendous degree. So Paul kept his eyes clothes and took steadying breaths as John worked on his cock. Fuck, John was so good that Paul was beginning to wonder if John had done this before. There’s no way he just knew naturally how to do this so perfectly.
Paul also began wishing he could somehow cover his ears or block out the lewd noises John was making. He had to be making them to torture Paul. The slurping and gagging made Paul’s gut burn with desire and the vibrations from John’s moans made the sensation a thousand times better.
Paul had to look, even just a peak, he had to see this once in a lifetime view or risk losing it forever. So Paul looked down and saw heaven. John’s messed up hair and head, bobbing on Paul’s dick for all it was worth, essentially trying to milk him. John’s hands had stopped groping Paul’s ass, instead holding Paul’s hips tight so that Paul could do nothing but take what John gave him. John must’ve been able to feel Paul’s eyes on him because he looked up and those pathetic puppy dog eyes from earlier were staring at him and, shit, Paul was entirely too close now. He can’t cum right now, it would ruin what was left of his plan to humiliate John.
“John, stop,” Paul tried saying sternly, but it ended up sounding more like a plea. John ignored him and continued his actions. “John, I said stop!”
“Mm, no, wanna make my princess feel good,” John said once he finally popped off, enunciating the sentence by doing kitten licks to Paul’s tip that sent shivers down Paul’s spine.
“Jooohnnn,” Paul whined. “I’m not a girl, stop calling me that!”
“Hm, but why do you look like one right now, then? Hm?” John said before diving back onto Paul’s dick and enveloping him completely.
“John, - AH, John, no, I'm gonna cum, please,” Paul said as John moved on mercilessly. Paul was breathless, it was all too much and happening so fast and fucking John wouldn’t let go of Paul. Paul was falling and stumbling towards the edge too soon and he saw his plan crumbling before him but it felt so good that he barely even cared. Just as John went as down as he could, nearly deepthroating Paul, Paul came harder than he ever had in his life. With a scream, he felt as though his bones had left his body and the only thing holding him up was John’s hands and the wall behind him.
“Good girl, you’re such a good girl for me,” Johns said as he lapped up the last drops of cum that hadn’t reached his mouth. Paul groaned from the slight overstimulation on his softening cock. Paul tried slumping down towards the floor to sit because he could barely feel his legs when John spoke. “What’re you doing, princess? I’m not done with you yet.”
“Huh?” was all Paul could let out before John picked up and threw him over his shoulder and carried him all the way over to John’s bed, throwing him onto it like a sack of potatoes. It’s unfortunate for Paul how he landed, with his legs slightly spread because it gave John the perfect opportunity to slot himself in there.
Before Pauk could react, John had positioned himself and was slipping off Paul’s panties just slightly off, putting Paul’s knees towards his chest so that his dick, balls, and hole were on display. Wordlessly, John started exploring with gentle touches, first simply grazing over the skin with his finger tips. His finger tapped and lightly rubbed at Paul’s entrance. Then his finger moved up, caressing and feeling Paul’s balls before cupping them lightly. Paul moaned lightly at the touches. Next, with his thumb, John put light pressure from the base of Paul’s cock to the tip, rubbing in circles at the tip, the motion being more fluid as more precum collected there.
“J-John, don’t- don’t touch it like a clit,” Paul whined, hugging his knees to stick out his dick and hole more, trying to get more friction but failing.
“I think you like it though. Look how wet you’re getting, princess.” John said, continuing to rub small circles over the tip. Paul let out a whine, the touch too sensitive but also not enough.
“I’m not your princess” Paul huffed before letting out a whine when John spanked him lightly.
“Not my princess huh? Well you’re sure looking like it. You’re sure acting like it.”
“Im- I’m not a girl” Paul said breathlessly as John started simultaneously rubbing Paul’s tip and hole.
“Look at how your hole flutters for me, princess. Look how wet you are. You want it so bad, baby. Let me make you feel good. I’ll ruin you, you’ll never want anyone else ever again.”
“Joohnn-, don’t talk like that, I’m not a girl!” Paul said, but he knew his heart wasn’t in it. Paul didn’t know why he was responding so much to this, he knew he wasn’t a girl but something about this situation was so… intoxicating. It stole his breath and made him dizzy.
John reached behind Paul and returned to his spot quickly. Paul wanted to ask what he grabbed but Paul knew what it was when he felt a cold wetness at his hole. Paul tensed up at the feeling, but John immediately started cooing at him to soothe him. After a few seconds, the finger returned, warmer now, and started pressing in with a little resistance.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” John groaned, his finger becoming more insistent. Eventually, he was able to fit a whole finger and slide it in and out easily enough. “You say you’re not a girl, but you feel just like one.” The words made Paul’s head spin. Paul then felt a slight stretch and burn, John was trying to fit in two fingers now. It made Paul nervous, not knowing the limits of his body like this but John was so confident that he let John take the lead. Paul knew now that his control was gone and the prank had back fried so spectacularly. But still being the stubborn ass he was, refused to admit he was a girl or princess or whatever John wanted to call him.
“Stop calling me a girl or else we stop, John,” Paul said sternly. To prove he was serious, he started trying to shoo John’s hand away.
“I don’t think you’ll actually want to stop anytime soon, princess”
“Stop saying that! And why?” Paul questioned
“Because of this,” John said and curled his fingers into Paul’s prostate. It was the first time Paul had ever felt anything like this, the pleasure coursing inside of him rather than around him, it caused him to arch his back and push his hips back, flailing and spasming around the bed like a man possessed.
“FUCK” Paul screamed, unworried about anyone that might hear, who cared about others when he felt like this.
“Yeah, you’re doing so well, princess,” John cooed, staring at Paul’s reactions and angling deeper into Paul. Paul whined out in discontent but couldn’t speak. John continued his actions, rubbing on the bundle of nerves any chance he had while scissoring between thrusts to open up Paul. By the time that John started trying to shove a third finger in, Paul was basically fucked out of his mind, not even minding the stretch. Still, he was conscious enough to be an ass.
“I’m not-, your princess,” Paul panted out.
“Really? That’s so funny because my princess gets to be fucked into the mattress for hours-thrust- and hours- thrust- and hours-thrust-, but I guess you dont want that so I’ll leave,” John said, pulling out his fingers and watching how Paul’s hole clenched around nothing.
“Nooo, Johnny come back!” Paul pleaded, removing his panties fully now and spreading his legs fully, enticing John.
“Oh, so it's ‘Johnny’ now, is it?” John teased. “Cmon, you know what to say.”
“Fuck me,” Paul whispered.
“No, not that, you know it’s not that,”
“Fuck me, please?”
“C’mon princess”
“...no”
“Then we’re stopping here,” John said, trying to pull back but then Paul grabs him by the wrist.
“Don’t you dare…”
“We can continue if you want so badly, but you know what I want,” John said mischievously, the bastard. “Or maybe you need a little push.” With that, John stuck two fingers back in Paul’s hole, immediately curling them into Paul’s prostate.
“Ngh-!” Paul cried out. Paul was stuck. He wanted to cum so badly at the hands of John like earlier, but at what cost? His pride? His stubbornness? But then John rubbed on his prostate just how he liked it and that all went out the window. “Please! Please-fuck- I’m your princess! Yours! Your princess only, please!” Paul sobbed out. The next sound Paul heard was a zipper being undone and he was being nudged to turn over.
“Wait, I want to stay like this, Johnny,” Paul pleaded.
“Oh, but… I really, really like doggy…” John blushed. “Please, just for a while at first?” Paul complied, turning over and getting on his hands and knees.
“I think it’ll feel a little better if you arch more,” John said while pushing down on Paul’s back, putting Paul on his elbows. It did cause Paul to arch more and make it seem like he was presenting himself which embarrassed and turned him on to no end.
John then began lining himself up, teasing the hole by rubbing just the tip around the rim, pushing forward ever so slightly. Just barely enough to stretch the rim, and then pulling back.
“You ready, princess?” John asked. Paul only nodded, afraid any noise he’d let out if he opened his mouth would be an embarrassing moan.
“Fuuuuck, princess, you feel better than any girl,” John moaned out as he began pushing in, slowly at first with the head causing the most resistance but the rest sliding in easily afterwards. John’s words caused Paul’s chest to swell with pride.
John continued pushing in, slowly and gently, checking in with Paul every inch to see how his princess was doing. Finally after a few minutes, John bottomed out and bent over to start kissing at Paul’s shoulders and back.
“You’re taking me so well, princess,” John praised. Paul let out a whine in response. “You ready for me to move now?”
“Nggghhh,” was all Paul could muster. John took it as a greenlight.
John slowly pulled out halfway before thrusting back in. The sudden sensation caused Paul to jump at first before relaxing into it. John did it again, and again and again, angling his hips differently every time and Paul knew what he was looking for.
After a few attempts, John finally hit head on causing Paul to scream out and grasp onto the bed sheets for dear life as John continued plowing in that specific angle, torturing Paul.
“Fuck, you look so much like a girl from the back, you can barely tell the difference,” John blabbed. “You’re so tight, being such a good princess, fuck.”
John grabbed onto Paul’s hips, raising them higher and causing Paul’s elbows to give out, making Paul arch his back even more. Like this, Paul was helpless to John’s whims and thrusts, all he could do was take it.
“Ah-ah-ah-AH!” Paul cried out at a particular hard thrust, which spurred John on to continue going even harder and deeper.
“You like that, princess? Am I making you feel good?” John said between pants.
“Yes! So so sooo good, don't stop,” Paul was finally able to get out when John spanked him to get him to talk with words.
“Oh look how much you like it, baby. You’re making such a mess on the bed,” John whispered into Paul’s ear as he bent over so they were chest to back. John then grabbed around Paul and started stroking Paul’s sensitive and neglected cock.
“Hnnnhhhgghhh,” Paul whined at the sensitivity, Paul being on the way to his second orgasm of the day. Paul started leaking even more, adding more precum to the puddle on the bed. Paul should've been embarrassed how much he was leaking but he couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment.
“So wet, leaking so much all for me princess? Huh?” John taunted.
“Fuck- why are you fucking me like a dog, John?” Paul asked suddenly, realizing that they were positioned exactly like two dogs fucking. WIth the exact same ferociousness as well, John was fucking into Paul without abandon.
“Because you make me lose my mind, I feel feral around you, ah fuck, I’m so close,” John groaned out, stroking Paul even harder to get him to cum first.
Determined to make Paul cum first, John halted his thrusts momentarily to reposition his angle, once again hitting Paul’s abused prostate dead on and rubbing the tip of Paul’s cock like a clit. Stimulating two of his most sensitive spots, Paul fought hard to push back his orgasm but to no avail, he failed.
Paul swore he saw Heaven’s light flash before his eyes as he came. Paul was so sure he’d died of pleasure because he could feel nothing but pleasure and hot white molten iron course through him, head to toes and everything in between. He’d never had an orgasm hit him so hard or last so long, and it wasn’t helped by the fact that John continued fucking into him, relentlessly chasing his own orgasm.
Paul finally lost control of his body and went limp, the only thing holding him up was John’s hands on his hips, which were sure to have bruises tomorrow from John’s grip. John continued thrusting, kind enough to avoid Paul’s prostate now, but still it was torturous to Paul. When John finally did cum, he came with a loud groan and screamed out “Paul!” various times, which if Paul had more brain power in the moment, he would’ve realized that’s the first time all day he’s called Paul by his name.
John thrusted his entire load into Paul, who didn’t mind surprisingly, probably because he liked the feeling. John, the freak that he is, even continued thrusting for well over 2 minutes after his orgasm though his cock was beginning to soften. Paul didn’t register it then, but John started whimpering from the overstimulation.
‘Fuck, you milked me, Paulie,” John said when he finally pulled out and laid beside Paul on the bed.
“‘Paulie’? What happened to ‘princess’? Paul asked after a minute, regaining his full consciousness.
“Sorry, did you prefer ‘princess’?” John grinned.
“...I didn’t fully hate it,” Paul said, turning his head to hide his blushing.
“Aw, princess, don’t be like that, c’mere,” John beckoned, pulling Paul into his arms, kissing him so gently, like he was the most precious thing in his life.