Grocery Boy



“Groceries, Mrs. Cherry!” I hollered, my back to the glass door for when I was buzzed in.

“Come on up.” Her voice was deep, throaty, and I always found that so sexy in a woman. Seeing old movies with Lauren Bacall late at night, I would imagine her saying to me, “You know how to whistle, don’t you? Just put your lips together and blow!”

So it was this hot summer day, fresh out of high school, no real jobs around. I was stocking shelves at night, then doing the occasional delivery before I got off, just for play around money.

She buzzed, and the door opened from my weight. The bags said Apartment 2C, so I rode the elevator up, and at the end of the hall, the lady said, “Down here.”

As I approached, her phone rang. “Bring it in the kitchen,” she yelled as she ran for the phone.

The kitchen was on the left, and I placed the bags down, thinking about her voice again, so husky, but I didn’t get to see her, really.

She was off the phone now, and she entered, her long red robe flowing behind her like so many screen stars wore in Hollywood in the fifties, but this was 1980.

Her hair was long and blond, and in a glance, I knew it was dyed, because she wasn’t a day under 60. She wore eye lashes, red lipstick, red heels, all this at 10 AM. And under the robe was a full length black nightgown, thin material, with a plunging neckline, barely covering a pair of huge tits!

She stopped and stared at me. “Where’s Greg?”

“Um, he joined the navy from what I heard. That’s how I got his job.”

“Really? He was such a nice boy, so sweet to me, so helpful… Who are you?”

“My name is Ben, Mrs. Cherry.”

“My name is Mrs. Willis, my first name is Cherry.”


“Don’t be. I’m not. Call me Cherry, drop the Missus.”

She stared at me for another minute, then said, “Okay, I got coffee on, how do you like it?”

“Oh no thanks, Ma’am, it’ll just keep me awake.”

“Greg always had coffee with me. You’re going to bed at 10 O’clock in the morning?”

“Yeah, I’ve been working since midnight, loading shelves at the market. This is my night time.”

“Good,” she said, “I never sleep at night anymore, either. Watching old movies all night.”

“Oh yeah? I love those old classics.”

“Yeah? I had some parts, nothing big, mind you, but in my day, I got bit parts in 32 movies, all told.”

“Wow, really? Anything major?”

She smiled, “A couple you Ankara Escort probably heard of, but I was always the girl in the crowd, or last dancer on the right. Still waiting for my big break!”

I was intrigued now, my eyes searching her face, thinking, I bet you were a knock-out as a kid! She seemed to feel my eyes, and seemed to enjoy it.

“How about that coffee, then, Ben, I got some old picture albums that have some real movie stars in them!”

Five minutes later, she was beside me on the couch, a big old album, the bindings cracking from over-use, on her lap, and she was reciting descriptions of old black-and-whites, many with actors from the forties and fifties, often taken with her. Cagney, Gable, Gene Kelly, and many I had never heard of.

I had been right: She was gorgeous back then, and what a body! Sort of like a Mae West shape, same blond hair then, large breasts and always pointed at the camera. It was easy to see why so many actors would stop and pose with an extra like her.

Cherry kept glancing at me as she turned the pictures, watching my reaction, especially when she got to the swimsuit section. My eyes must have bulged, because she giggled. “I used to turn quite a few heads back then!”

I looked from the pictures to her breasts now, still huge, still high, now because of her black bra that was obvious from this close.

“How do you think I’d stack up to the girls nowadays?”

“Mrs… I mean Cherry, the girls now couldn’t hold a candle to you ladies, even now!”

She squeezed my arm as she laughed. “Back then, they had what they called ‘blue movies,’ smut films. Every guy in Hollywood swore he directed one of those and always offered me a part, based on my body!”

“No offense, but i can see why.”

She stood, and I marveled at her posture as she held her chest out. “I’ll be right back.”

In a flash, she was back with another album, slowly sliding down next to me.

“I only show special people this one.” She opened it and there she was, maybe 21 years old, at least forty years ago, totally naked on a couch, spread for all the world to see.

I could only say, “Wow!” Her breasts were firm, no sag, and this was the age before implants. They must have been whatever is bigger than DD, I don’t know, but being only 5’3 now, she wouldn’t have been more than 5’5 then.

“You like?”

I just nodded.

“Greg liked them too. Greg asked if he could see Ankara Escort Bayan them. Would you like to see them, Ben?”

My mind raced, how bad could they look now, sagging to her knees? She’s looking at me, with that look of a woman who wants to be wanted. I can’t say no, and I don’t want to say no. She’s waiting…

“I’d love to see them, Cherry.”

She rose, leaving the book there, stepping in front of me, and let the robe slide from her shoulders, slowly undressing for affect.

She turned her back, while untying the cords in the front, then slowly draped the nightgown over her shoulders, the Platinum blond hair in contrast to the black gown. She faced me, smiling as she let that slip off, stepping out of it, in her heels, now just bra and panties left.

My 18 year old cock was growing, rapidly, for this woman who could be my grandmother. The whole image of old starlet, brought back visions of an older Bacall, or Crawford, or Hayworth, still sexy inside, trying to cling to the past.

She reached behind and unhooked, but kept the cups covering the tits and she moved closer to me, close enough to touch. “You want to see, baby? You want to see what old Hollywood was like? The glamor, the sexuality?”

I nodded and she stepped back. “Not here. Inside.”

I followed her down the hall. I walked hunched over, my erection now full. In her bedroom, still unmade, with flowing pillows and red wallpaper, she stopped and turned with her back to the bed. Still smiling, she lowered the cups and her tits tumbled out, two huge orbs, hung from skin. Amazing. Much tighter than I expected, more like a forty year old than a sixty. Her nipples were large, brown, and she rolled her head back, asking if I liked them.

I stepped closer, and felt the heft of them, almost like weighing two melons at the store, with my thumbs flicking at her nipples.

She smiled widely, and said, “Now you have something to show me, Honey,” and she dug at my jeans.

I let her work at them, as if in a dream, feeling her get them open, unzip them and she pressed against me as she fished for my cock, our faces close, but she made no attempt at kissing me.

I felt her bony fingers wrap around the shaft and squeeze and I almost came right then. She was talking, but I wasn’t listening, Her breasts had my attention. Them, and what lay beneath those panties.

She forced down my jeans and I stepped out of them, just Escort Ankara as she pushed me onto the bed and climbed over my cock, holding it as her head got closer and closer.

My God, I’m gonna get a BJ from Grandma!

She smiled, then spit into her hand, then lubricated my cock with it. She was talking again. All I got was “ooh” and “aah.” And then she was on it, her red lips wrapped around it, her hand working the shaft.

At 18, I had little or no control over my cock, and she worked it so fast and hard, that in minutes my hips were bucking and I was warning her of my cum.

She stayed with it as my hips thrust into her face, fucking her head. I shot stream after stream, feeling her swallowing, taking it all in, remaining there until I was spent.

I felt badly about being premature and told her.

“Baby, just think, now you can take your time.” I felt her hand stroking me already, and I decided to find out about that dark,hairy bush I had seen in the pictures.

She had her head on my chest, kissing my nipples as she stroked me back to life. My fingers slid under the elastic and I was amazed again. She was shaved clean.

She spread for me and my fingers probed her sticky juices, so thick. She moaned and spread wider and I found her clit, all swollen to my touch, and I squeezed and she groaned.

I was hard again and she wasted no time, climbing across me, holding my cock as she lowered herself, guiding me into her well-lubricated box.

She smiled down on me, her huge breasts began bouncing and she closed her eyes, moving up and down.

She leaned forward, so my cock brushed her clit, and her tits almost smothered me, as I tried to bite at the nipples.

She quickened the pace, harder now as she gasped for breath, grunting as she did.

Again, I felt my cum swelling, but this time I could hold it, and I did as she brought herself to orgasm, using me as her dildo. She screamed “I’m cumming,” then went really fast,and I was spurred on by her spasms, and as she subsided I told her I was ready, and she screamed, “Come, Baby, COME!”

Our bodies thrashed about in jerking motions and we finally slumped together, hugging, with her whispering in my ear, “Yes, baby, yes…”

My cock grew limp, this time plopping out of her pussy, and I felt the warm rush of her juices released on my belly.

She slowly kissed her way down my body, wiping me clean with her sheet, taking care to hold my cock ever so gently, almost with reverence. She kissed the tip, then patted my cheek.

“Well, I have a luncheon date, an old suitor. I know he won’t require this much attention, and won’t provide this fine service!”

I smiled, thinking, “Service with a smile!”

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