John and Jayne were making out like a couple of randy kids as her chauffeured Cadillac made it's journey to her hotel.

Her manager and body guard riding up front, the heady make-out session never hidden from view.

The hotel was close by and quickly John found himself being guided into her room....

She dropped her Persian cat coat to the floor...

John tossed his coat on the chair by the door and sunk down onto one of the two overstuffed, plush sofas that sat in the room. He was immediately joined there by the busty blonde, thigh tight in proximity.

There was just something about the woman- beautiful- open- flirty... John let himself relax in her presence and enjoy.

''I was dying to meet you, Miss Mansfield'' John twirled a wisp of her hair in his fingers as she moved closer, pressing her fingers once more into his thigh.

Just call me Jaynie'' Jayne moved a little closer, lips pouting in that oh so famous way, she then added, ''I was also dying to meet all of you, you wonderful guys"

Mansfield suggestively caressed Lennon's hair, whispering: ''Is it your real hair?''

John paused then answered, all the while looking at her prominent bust, her most famous attribute "Are those?''

Jayne, without bother, giggled and answered brashly back ''There's only one way of ascertaining that, isn't there?"

They kissed gently at first, feeling the way, testing the waters. Her perfume was strong, sickly and not at all what he preferred but he willingly gave up it's distraction and moved along to nibble and lay fleeting kisses along that buxom cleavage that she had pressed against him whenever he wasn't kissing her décolletage.

She was built alright, nipples pressed and straining against the shiny fabric of her dress and she let his tongue swirl inside her mouth when he moved and pressed against her lips again.

She tugged his belt, wanting to touch more of him. He was hard, straining, eager...

This was it, this was fantasy and reality hitting and colliding. His dreams that used to plague his sleep now playing his tune in the present. She moaned wantonly under him and it wasn't Louise.

Awwww forget Louise for a bit.

It's my dream, let's give Mansfield the Lennon special touch see if I can make her squeal.

Wouldn't Macca hate me then.

John pushed back into moment, pulling the fabric he was rewarded with more succulent views of expensive lace. Jayne let out a sign, he didn't even have his mouth closed over a nipple and she was scratching him up and down, squirming against him, moaning, and those fingers were toying with his zipper insistently; wanton fingers eager to touch all of him.

She moaned once more and John somehow managed to disengage from her body, and stood.

Just need...

One moment.

One minute, that's all.

John scrubbed his face with both hands and blinked out of the daze.

He suddenly needed more than a moment, even more than a minute.

More time.

Turning, he moved to the well-stocked bar that was set up on a tiny table and proceeded mixing gin, vodka, red wine. He glanced back at the blonde sat waiting expectantly for him - gorgeous just absolute bloody perfection -those tits, that arse and the hair piled high and blonde, so blonde, like everything Paul and I sniggered about back in the day. Everything we wished for in our dream girl. Right here with me, wanting me, wanting me to touch her...

Come on man, a little kissing will be ok..

Isn't that manager of her's, her 'boyfriend'???

Surely, he will have words about this ...

Or

John closed his eyes

Or

Is this the club again but with no cameras. A story to tell when I leave, some ruse to garner tabloid fodder for her career..... Fuck.

But there's no one around.

Her word against his, the manager ain't here now, is he.

Nor the huge bodyguard that shadowed her every move.

No, just them two now, all alone.

John sat back down for a little longer...

A/N Reality Bites:

Some of Jaynes and Johns night with friends -...... well one of many stories off the internet!

Jayne asked her friend to read her the Tarot, for her and Lennon.

Her friend began the cast and suddenly he dropped them horrified, exclaiming, ''Oh my God, this is terrible, I see a tragic end for both of you in all this"

(right prediction, as it's said before Jayne Mansfield died three years later victim of one car accident and Lennon was shot in 1980).

Hearing this, Lennon got angry and threw the cards.

Also:

Jayne Mansfield died in a car accident in 1967.

John Lennon always remembered that fact of the Tarot when she met Jayne Mansfield in 1964 and he was in alarm.

As it's known, Lennon was obsessed with numbers and, particularly, with number nine.

Lennon said to Chris Hutchins: ''Jayne was born on April 19 and died on June 29.

April is the fourth month and June the sixth. If you put them together you have one ten. I was born on October 9, the ninth day of the tenth month.

Jayne Mansfield died two months after her birthday, that means that I'm going to die on one day with a nine, in the month of December.''

FREAKY!