And I Love Her

John Gets His Girl

John found that drowning his sorrows in alcohol was a terrible solution. But one that he relied on more often than he would care to admit. After his lettering class that day, he headed straight for Ye Cracke which is exactly where Colin and Stu found him after class, nursing his third pint of Pale Ale.

"John, it's just a bird, you'll live, plus you're John Lennon! You can sleep with whomever you damn well choose," Colin said leaning against the worn wooden counter as Stu ordered two pints of Pale Ale for himself and Colin.

John looked up into Colin's eyes, and Colin could see the hurt that had managed to surface in John's eyes. John quickly cast his gaze back down at the pint that was in a death grip. That's when he heard her voice.

"Phyl, I really don't think we should come here, it's dark and makes me uncomfortable," A soft lilting voice spoke from over by the door. John's ears perked up, he knew that voice, that sweet, sweet angelic voice. Cynthia Powell.

"And then we went back to my flat and her and I-" Stu was talking about his latest shag when John cut him off with a serious look in his eyes. He motioned over to the door with his head, Stu sighed and looked over his shoulder to where John was pointing, sort of.

"It's just two birds, God Lennon, you've got it bad" Stu laughed, the laugh attracted the attention of Cynthia, and she saw the back of John's head. A stab of pain hit her right in the chest and she choked back a million sobs. She knew exactly whose head that was, they didn't need to turn around and stare at her with their chocolate eyes that beckoned her to look deeper, to come closer, to be encircled in his embrace as they made love in the middle of the night.

"It's Cynthia, no more talking about shags around her" John said gritting his teeth tight as he stood up and walked out of the pub to have a smoke. He leaned against the cracked brick of the pub's exterior as he pulled forth a carton of cigarettes. He had two left, so he strolled down the street a little further and bought another carton, in case he needed more than two. He lit one of the two cigarettes on his way back to the pub. Cynthia's friend was in the alleyway next to the pub with Stu. He had her against the wall, ravishing her neck with kisses and nips as she squealed.

"Get a room Stuart" John said as he passed the dimly lit alleyway. He smiled for the first time that night as he stood outside the pub and finished off his cigarette, he pulled out the other and lit it. One may call him a chain smoker, but that term didn't feel right on his tongue, He called himself a stress smoker.

John finished off his second cigarette of the night and headed back into the pub. He saw Cynthia at a table in the corner talking in hushed tones with Phyl and Stu who had re-entered the pub after their alleyway rendezvous. He sauntered over to them and quickly caught Cynthia's eye. She looked down and refused eye contact with the man in front of her. She knew it was terribly rude, but he had been terribly rude to her the day before.

"Phyl, do you want to come with me to get some more drinks?" Stu asked, gently tugging on Phyl's arm. The girl complied with no second thoughts, she was smitten with Stu. John didn't care where they had gone, he was just glad that he had gotten some alone time with Cynthia. He opened his mouth to start a conversation, but he couldn't get a word out because he was cut off by Cynthia.

"What the hell John!" Cynthia cried throwing her hands up in the air. John smiled slightly at the overdramatic show that Cynthia was putting on. She lowered her hand fast and hard to John's cheek. She slapped him. John Lennon had never been slapped by a woman, or anyone for that matter.

"That's for laughing. Arse" Cynthia spat as she got up and went to the bar with Stu and Phyl. She ordered something strong, John could tell from the way she was fuming when she ordered it, and the scent of said drink when she returned.

"Take it easy Miss Powell" John said trying to pry her fingers from the tumbler of alcohol in front of her. She held on tighter and finally John just gave up. By this time Stu had returned with a coke for John and a pint of Pale Ale for he and Phyl.

"I'm leaving, I'll see you at home Phyl" Cynthia said once she had downed her drink. She shoved past John who stood up and followed her outside. John grabbed her by the waist and dragged her to him. She screamed but John silenced her with a kiss. She resisted at first but she began to slowly kiss back.

"I'm really sorry Miss Powell," John said against Cynthia's neck as he left her lips for a minute and flipped her to push her against the exterior of the pub. She sighed contentedly and ran her fingers through his teddy boy hair making him groan in pleasure against her neck.

"Oh God" Cynthia breathed, pulling John closer. He growled and grabbed her waist pulling her closer to him as well. He was turned on, he was so, so turned on and he wanted her oh so badly.

Cynthia was maybe about as turned on as John, she wanted him so badly, and she had no intentions of stopping for one moment that night. John's hands found their way under Cynthia's skirt and she moaned when she felt his rough calloused fingers rub her through her tights and her panties. John looked up at Cynthia, with a devilish smile, her eyes were glazed over with lust, and he knew he had to take her somewhere. Stu's would be empty.

"Let's go to my friend's flat. He lives really close around here and I can't take not being inside you much longer" John said breathily into Cynthia's ear. She giggled and slid her fingers through his. John sprinted to Stu's apartment with Cynthia in tow.

Once they arrived at the flat, it was no easy task entering the house, John had to fumble around on his ring of keys for the right one, Stu gave him a key a while ago, fearing that he would get locked out one day and have no way of getting back in. Cynthia stood patiently on the porch and John wondered how she was waiting so patiently, he was basically orgasming in his pants, he was so turned on. Finally! He found the key. Cynthia breathed a sigh of relief and John led her into the house. He slammed the door shut and dragged her towards the mattress in the middle of the floor. Clothes fell off and moans echoed throughout the entire flat, it was a wonder that they woke no one up in the adjoining flats.

When all was said and done, John had his arm wrapped tightly around Cynthia, her head on his bare chest.

"Christ Miss Powell. Now, what's this about your relationship in Hoylake?" John asked raising an eyebrow at the girl next to him.

"What romance?" Cynthia said winking. She glanced up at the clock and her eyes grew wide. She jumped up out of the bed and began pulling her clothes on rapidly.

"I'm going to miss the last train back to Blackpool!" She exclaimed as John pulled on his clothes and started for the door after her. The two sprinted to the train station and exchanged one last kiss before John asked her what she was doing the next day and the day after, being the weekend and all.

"Seeing you!" She called out turning her head to catch one last glance at John. He smiled and watched the train pull away.

John Lennon had finally gotten the girl he wanted, and he had no intentions of letting her go anytime soon.