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Just a Jealous Guy

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I had always flirted quite a bit. It got me in over my head at times, and it could make George furious beyond reason. As we drifted apart, his flirting with other women would infuriate me. It was years later that I realized how much I had hurt him with the mindless amorous attention I would give other men. With George there was a rule that I never quire got. It was alright to flirt with some of his friends and totally forbidden with others. I never figured it out. Long after George and I were divorced and Eric and I had split up I was at a party in London flirting outrageously with Jimmy Page. We were laughing and talking about old times when I felt that old vibe of jealousy directed at me. The back of my head started tingling and I turned around and there was George shooting daggers at me with his thunderous brown eyes.

“Darling, I didn’t know you’d be here,” I kissed him on the cheek, his stubble scratching my lips. “Where’s Livy?”

He ignored my question and firmly took me by the arm and pulled me into the hallway. “I suppose you’d like to fuck him, “ he accused me.

“Good God! You have no right to be jealous!” I jerked my arm out of his grasp. “Anyway I would never fuck Jimmy. He was with Charlotte.....” I didn’t get to finish my sentence. George turned on his heel and abruptly left in a fit of rage. It had always upset him when I mentioned Charlotte in the past, and apparently it still did. I chalked it up to the fact he’d been drinking, and I didn’t really think much of it. I enjoyed the rest of the party never suspecting I wouldn’t see George again for six months.

That December I went to a Christmas party at Ronnie Wood’s. Everyone was there. Mick and Pete Townsend and of course Jimmy Page. Jimmy was with a really young woman and didn’t give me a glance. Ronnie handed me a glass of wine. “George is upstairs,” he told me. “Alone.” Ronnie gave me a smirk. I knew he loved to stir the pot. I fell for the bait and made my through the crowd to the staircase and went up to look for George.

I found him in Ronnie’s library sitting on the sofa fooling around with a guitar. He had on a lovely gray suit. He still sported that scruff on his face, which I found extremely sexy. “Darling,” I sang out full of Christmas cheer and happy to see him after so long. “How are you?” I plopped down next to him and leaned in for a kiss but he moved his head away from me. “George! What is the matter?”

“Your boyfriend, Jimmy’s here. Didn’t you see him down there?” He snapped at me. Then he frowned.

“Yes, I see he has a new girlfriend. She looks very young.” I replied. I took a gulp of wine.

“Jealous are you?” George sneered.

“No, darling, I’m not jealous. But you seem to be. Why are you acting like this? I’ve never liked Jimmy. And by the way, where is your wife?” I finished my wine. It made me nervous when anyone was angry with me. Especially George. Old feelings of insecurity welled up.

“The wife is not too happy with me, and so she stayed home.”

I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to know. So I changed the subject. “Are you going to be angry with me for the holidays?”

“Maybe.” He put the guitar down and spread this arms across the back of the couch.

A bell went off in my head. I knew what would cheer him up. I picked up George’s beer and chugged the rest of it for courage. “Do you want your Christmas present now,?“ I asked him. I sat the beer bottle down and walked across the room to lock the door. He didn’t look at me or answer so I knelt on the floor in front of him.

I ran my hands up his thighs and looked at his face. He was still pouting, but he wasn’t resisting. I unbuckled his belt. He didn’t move so I felt bold enough to unbutton his trousers and then I unbuttoned his his pale blue dress shirt and pulled his tee shirt up . He was still slim and not an inch of fat on him. I kissed his stomach and ran my hands up over his chest. George’s head was back and his eyes were closed.

“You are being very naughty, Pattie,” he murmured.

“I know, darling. but I can’t stand it when you’re upset. Even now.” I lowered his zipper, his arousal evident. That’s my George, I thought. He couldn’t be that upset. I tugged on the waistband of his trousers and he hitched his ass up so I could pull them down. It thrilled me to bits that he wasn’t wearing underpants. At a Christmas party! To add to George’s pleasure, I took off my blouse and my bra, glad I hadn’t decided to wear a dress.

My hair fell forward and I used one hand to hold it back. “Let it down, Pattie,” said George.

“Yes, George.” I let my hair fall forward and I stroked him with my hand as I circled the tip with my tongue. George groaned most satisfactorily. All the love and desire I had ever felt for him came flooding through me. He smelled good, he tasted even better. If he hadn’t looked oh so sexy sitting there with that guitar, I would not be on my knees hoping to give him the best blow job ever.

As I sucked him, my tongue was busy flicking and I held his balls and very gently tightened my hold.

“God, Pattie,” he rasped. I felt his hands in my hair guiding my head just a tiny bit, so I knew he was liking this very much.

“Mmmmmm,” I hummed adding to the sensation. I happily attended to him. I had never stopped loving him or being very attracted to him. He was the love of my life and I hope for just this moment I was once more his.

George was breathing really hard and kind of pulling my hair. Finally he held it back and I knew he was staring intently so I took him as far down my throat as I could, bouncing on my knees to get a good rhythm going. George was rocking his hips and by the groans and moans I knew he was about to let go. His hands had moved to my shoulders and he gripped them tightly as he got off. I could feel that warm heat hit the back of my throat and I thought of something chocolate so I wouldn’t gag.

I swallowed and gave a little lick to get every drop. Then I looked up at George and grinned before wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. “Feel better?” I queried.

“Jesus Christ, Pattie. Where did you learn to do that?” The very same questioned he had always asked me after sex. The thought flashed across my mind wondering if he asked Olivia the same thing, but I quickly chased it away.

I laughed. “I had a good teacher,” I teased.

I put my blouse back on. “I’m going to go get us some drinks.” I left him in the library and luckily found a server with a full drinks tray at the bottom of the stairs. I took three glasses of champagne and hurried back to George.

“Cheers!” I said as I handed him a glass and we clinked before taking a sip.

“Sit next to me,” he said. I curled up next to him and he put his arm around me.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such a bastard, but I could never stand it when you would bat those big blue eyes at Jimmy.” He gave me a squeeze. “When I saw you last June laughing with him, I just lost it. Really, I have no right. I was just upset about something else and I took it out on you.”

“I forgive you,” I told him. I patted his knee. “I hope you’ve worked out your problems.”

“Well, I’ve tried to be a very good boy to make Liv happy, but you know I’m never a good boy for long.” He drank his champagne and I refilled his glass with with half of the extra drink I’d brought up.

“I feel badly I’ve tempted you,” I lied.

He smiled that crooked smile that always made my heart lurch. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Of course, your secret is safe with me. But I never feel guilty when I’m with you. It just seems natural somehow.” I polished off my champagne and picked up the other glass and sat there next to George happy to be with him. Glad he wasn’t acting like a child anymore.

He picked up the guitar and I leaned against the arm rest. He played a bit of For You Blue. Then he winked at me. He played a little medley of what we used to call Pattie songs. I sighed feeling happy and content. It never failed. When I found myself with George, it seemed like we’d never been apart.

Then he started playing Let’s Spend the Night Together. Not singing, but I got the message.

“George go home to Liv. Don’t ruin Christmas. Make up with her. “ I said the words we both needed to hear.

“Will you come for New Years Eve?” he asked.

“Of course, darling. Have I ever missed a party?” I put my feet in his lap and listened as he played his favorite Dylan tunes. Things were right between us. It would never be as it was, but in some ways it would be better.