Key Largo

Mom had found the invitation in the post. She handed it to me during breakfast. It was in a plain envelope. A blank card containing a movie ticket. The Rialto at six pm. Just one ticket. It was a revival of Key Largo, my favourite film. Nothing else. I checked the envelope again. It wasn't a mistake, it was addressed to me.

Mom smiled at me.

"It's a bit early for Valentines. I think you have an admirer."

I felt an uncomfortable heat in my face.

"Are you going to go?" she asked.

I shrugged.

"It's a bit creepy isn't it?" I said.

"What's life worth if you don't take a chance? Go on you might enjoy yourself."

I fingered the ticket, looking up at mom's eyes every few moments.

"Go on," she said.

I nodded. She put her hand on mine and squeezed gently.

"Good boy, I'm sure you'll have fun."

She stood and walked around the table. She bent down and kissed my cheek. I could feel the firm press of her body against my shoulder. Her hands rested for a moment on my shoulders and she stopped as she took her lips from my cheek. I felt her lips near my ear.

"Don't be late," she breathed.

I shivered and she laughed.

"Don't worry, it'll be fun. I promise. Who do you think it is? Milly, she's kind of cute?"

I blushed.

"No, I don't think so. I suppose... I don't know."

"Well, I suppose you'll find out."

I looked down at my eggs. I could feel the heat of the blush creep up to my ears. I suddenly didn't feel much like eating.

I had classes the rest of the day, but I couldn't concentrate on the poems of Shelley or the influences of 40's noir on modern media. The lecture theatres seemed claustrophobic and somehow short of air. I walked out halfway through the third lecture of five. I decided I would just go home and have a nap. I still wasn't sure if I was going to go to the movies. It was too weird. It could have been Milly I guessed. She was one of the few friends I had kept after moving. We hung out and I sometimes wished for more, but she was always a bit like a little sister. She knew I loved old films though, and not many other people did.

It's a weird thing for an 18 year old to be obsessed with but I loved Bogey and Bacall. Especially Bacall. In her heyday there could not have been a more beautiful woman in the world. My walls were filled with still shots and movie posters but pride of place was a movie poster from Key Largo. It was a cheap print but in the bottom corner it was signed by her. My mom had bought it for me two years before. She said it was for my 16th birthday, but I knew it was a bribe. Divorces aren't easy for anybody, least of all lonely kids with no friends.

My father had left when I was 15. One day he was there, the next day he wasn't. We moved houses, I moved schools. And all the time I was alone, except for the movies. There was always the movies. We couldn't afford much. I didn't have birthday parties or sleepovers. The money was tight and I had no friends to enjoy them with anyway. But each week mom hired an old black and white film, we would make popcorn and curl up on the couch together for a couple of hours of escape.

I knew mom was lonely. She had lost most of her friends when my father left. We could no longer afford the house, not on her income alone so we moved across town to a two bed apartment with cockroaches for pets. For a while her old friends visited. They would sit at the old dinner table, drink tea and make ever more stilted small talk. The visits gradually became less frequent, until they stopped altogether. Eventually it was just the two of us, always the two of us.

She was still a beautiful woman. I thought so anyway. She had turned 40 the year before and though she had a few smile lines, she still looked the same as she did in the photos I had seen of her in her twenties. She was a natural strawberry blonde, with bright blue eyes that seemed to shine when she laughed. I loved hearing her laugh. It had seemed for a long time that she would never laugh again, so I made sure I treasured every one.

Catching the train home was easy and quick, none of the rush hour crush. Mom should have been home but her car wasn't out front of the apartment. I unlocked the door and threw my satchel on the floor. There was a note on the table.

Honey,

I have had to go out for work. There are some cold cuts and bread in the fridge, make yourself a sandwich. Don't be late for the movie. Enjoy.

Love,

Mom.

Inside I groaned. I had thought that if mom had been at home, I could have convinced her to hire a movie and for the pair of us to spend the night together. No such luck.

I made a sandwich and sat at the table. I would have to get ready soon, if I was going to go. I ran my fingers through my hair. It was just too weird, then I thought about mom's eyes when she suggested I go. She had wanted me to go. I could tell. If I enjoyed it, I could tell her about it. She didn't get much fun, perhaps I owed it to her to have some and share it with her.

"Damn it," I said to myself. "Why not? Just once."

I didn't know what I was going to wear, I really didn't have much in the way of a wardrobe. I opened the door of my bedroom and on the back of the door there was a new navy blue pinstripe suit hanging beside a crisply ironed shirt. There was a note pinned to the lapel.

For you, enjoy.

Mom. She'd thought of everything. The shirt was cool and clean. It felt good as I did the buttons up. I tied the tie, taking a couple of attempts before it was perfect. The suit fit perfectly and I suddenly felt less like a boy and more like a man. A pair of black oxfords were beside my bed and a black trilby sat on the cover. I tied the laces on the shoes and put the trilby on my head. I looked in the mirror and I had to smile. I looked like Bogart. All I needed was a Bacall.

I arrived at the theatre just in time. The lights were lowering as I walked in. I found my seat, but there was no one else there. My heart sank. How do you get stood up by a blind date, after they go to the effort of inviting you? I stood at the end of the aisle, trying to decide what to do next as the movie flickered to life, revealing the theatre in monochrome shadow. The title credits rolled and that settled it. I loved Key Largo. I glanced at the ticket once more. My seat was in the middle of the aisle. I edged to my seat, took off my hat and placed it on the seat beside mine. I looked around the theatre and realised I was alone. There is something strangely unnerving about sitting in a cinema alone and I felt uneasy, as if I were doing something wrong, even though all I had done was accept a movie ticket from a secret admirer, who had wanted to remain so secret, they had not even shown up.

Bacall had first appeared on the screen when I saw her.

She pushed open the door and was standing at the entrance looking up towards me. I could not tell how old she was but I thought she looked somehow mature. The curves were more lush and she moved with the confidence of an older woman. Her long blonde hair hung down over her shoulder in a long sensuous wave. She wore a hat, that looked blood red in the flickering light of the projector. It angled down over her face, obscuring all but her lips and chin. I could see her lips in the light leaking past her from the theatre lobby. They were red and full. She looked up at me and I thought I saw her smile.

She closed the door behind her and the cinema was dark again, lit only by the projector. I watched her, fascinated. She looked so elegant. Her skirt hugged her hips and descended in soft curves to her knees. She wore a blouse beneath a figure hugging jacket. I could tell, even from my perch, high in the theatre, that beneath the blouse she had gorgeous full breasts. The blouse opened at the neck to show a deep, creamy white cleavage that seemed to plunge into the unknown. She looked up at me again, and I quickly looked away, afraid she had caught me staring at her. She turned and began to climb the stairs towards me. I tried not to watch but I could not help staring as I watched her move. Her hips swung with each step, and I watched as her breasts shifted beneath the blouse. I could feel myself begin to stir and I tried to look away.

She stopped at the end of my row and I was about to move, expecting her to berate me for staring at her, but she walked into the row, turned to the screen and sat beside me. I could smell her perfume, thick and musky. I tried to look at the screen but her presence almost overwhelmed me. My cock was hard. I could feel it straining against the fabric of my suit. I turned to look at her for a moment. All I could see was the red felt curve of the hat above her lips. Her lips were stained dark red with a lipstick that seemed to almost shine in the reflected light of the film. She did not look away from the screen but she smiled. Her perfect lips curled slightly. I looked away again, the blood rising in my face.

I thought for a moment about getting up and leaving but as I fumbled beside me for my hat I felt her hand on my knee. I gasped and almost pulled my leg away, but her grip gently held me in place. In a moment that felt like a lifetime, I began to relax, but as I did, she began to trace circles and curlicues on my thigh with her fingernails. Her nails were a flawless red. They were long and tapered, and I shivered with each caress. I felt my cock twitch and a groan escaped my lips. Her hand began to climb my thigh. I looked at her but she was staring at the screen, still smiling.

I tensed waiting for her hand to finish it's journey. It stopped on my inner thigh, just short of my throbbing cock and I moaned again, wanting to move her hand onto my cock, but afraid to move at all. She felt me tense and her smile grew wider. I tried to speak but she took her hand from my thigh and put a finger to her ruby lips. She whispered something I didn't hear and she placed her hand back onto my cock. I jumped again. I felt her fingers go to work on my fly. I lay back as the zip slid down. She reached in, took the shaft of my cock and worked it free of it's confines. I felt her long slender fingers wrap around it. Her hand was cool against the fevered skin of the shaft. It throbbed in her hand and she began to slide her hand along the shaft in long, slow, sensuous caresses. I had never had my cock even touched by anyone other than myself and I almost instantly came with her touch. She wrapped her hand tight around the shaft, the thick head above her fingers. I heard her draw breath. I had never felt so hard, so excited.

I watched as her free hand fumbled with the buttons of her blouse, eventually allowing it to fall open revealing her breasts. I had not seen many breasts, and certainly none this close up, they looked huge. The soft milky skin curved above a bra that barely covered her nipple. I could see her nipples harden through the sheer fabric and I saw the ragged rise and fall of her chest. Her hand strayed to a nipple and she gently pinched it between her thumb and forefinger. Her other hand rose to surround the head of my cock. I groaned louder as her thumb circled the tip and toyed with the eye. I watched her lips as they parted slightly and the tip of her tongue caressed the upper lip. I still could not see her face and I wanted desperately to see more.

She let go of my cock and I thought she was going to get up and leave. A sound caught at the back of my throat, almost a word. I reached up to touch her hand, to somehow stop her, but instead of going she stood and turned, straddling my legs. I looked up to her face but in the dark of the theatre I could not see it clearly. She lowered her self onto my lap until her breasts hung in front of me. The bra was clasped in the front and she reached up to release it. Her breasts fell free. I had never seen anything so beautiful. They were thick and heavy. The soft skin flawless in the cinema light. Atop them were hard brown nipples, with beautiful pale areola that were puckered and wrinkled with arousal. I could not stop myself leaning forward. I reached up to guide one of them into my mouth but she gently took my hand and pushed it back onto the seat. She lifted the breast with the hand and placed the nipple between my lips. She tasted delicious. I could taste her skin and smell her scent. A hint of lemon beneath the musk. I tried to reach up again but she pushed both my hands onto the arms of the seat. I tried to wriggle free but she pressed her breast into my mouth, almost smothering me with their weight. I suckled the nipple, whimpering as her hips ground into mine, my cock throbbing between us.

I was breathless. I pulled my lips free and gasped air into my lungs but she pressed my face into the valley between her breasts. I felt her lift her weight from my hips and her hands hike her skirt above her hips. My cock sprang up like an iron bar between us. I could feel it engorged and stiff. She took my hand from the arm of the chair and placed my fingers between her legs. I could feel the soft skin of her thighs and the warmth of her pussy on my fingers. With one of her hands I could feel her reach in and spread her lips. Taking my hand she placed a fingertip on a swollen bud of engorged tissue. She arched her back, and pressed my face further into her cleavage. I rubbed her clit in small circles and with each roll of my finger, her hips would buck and she would cry out. I tried to look up at her face, but each time I did, she forced my face back into her breasts. My finger was coated in her juices and I could feel the heat of her pussy. I stopped caressing her clit for a moment and explored her pussy.

I found the entrance to her and forced a finger gently in. I was rewarded by a groan that seemed to come from the base of her spine. She shuddered and I could feel drops of her juice fall onto my hand and further onto my cock. After a moment she tilted her head back further till I could see nothing but her neck and chin. I felt her lift the finger from her pussy and hold it to her lips. I felt the gentle caress as she gently sucked her juices from my hand. I almost came as swirled her tongue around the tip of the finger. She must have felt me twitch. She pushed my hand back down onto the chair. I could see the streaks left by the traces of her lipstick on my finger. I longed to taste those lips. She began to lower herself onto me. Her pussy was so wet, her lips opened easily to swallow the head of my cock. It was my turn to gasp and arch my back. The ecstasy of the feel of her cunt engulfing me nearly made me faint. She paused for a moment, with just the head inside her. I felt the muscles of her pussy twitch and tighten. Then she lowered her self further till all of me was deep inside her.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift in a sea of pleasure. I felt her loosen her grip on my arms and I opened my eyes. She reached up to take off her hat. She looked down at me and I recognised her face. Those lips, how could I have mistaken them? I panicked for a moment and tried to escape from under her, but her hands clamped down on my forearms, pinning me again to the arms of the chair.

"Mom," I said. My voice hoarse.

"Sshh," she said. She leaned down and I looked up into her eyes. Her lips were slightly open and I saw the delicate tip of her tongue between them. She leaned her full lips closer, without saying a word, and gently pressed them to mine. I could not react at first, paralysed by confusion and doubt, but the warmth of her lips, the taste of her lipstick and the scent of her, melted my fears. I began to return her kiss, slowly at first but then greedily.

She thrust herself down upon me and our lips separated. She gasped.

"Oh honey," she whispered. "Oh god, you feel so good inside me."

"Mom?"

"Sshhh," she said again. "Let me feel you. I've wanted to give you this for so long."

I groaned and felt the tension build in the pit of my stomach. I thought about all of the nights on the couch. How many times she had pressed herself close to me, how many times I had inhaled that scent, how many time she had invaded my dreams? I realised that I wanted this too.

"Mom," I said. "I'm going to cum."

She ground her cunt onto me.

"Honey... oh god, please. Fill me."

She bent her head to me again and pressed her lips on mine. Devouring my mouth with hers.

I felt myself crest, past the point of no return.

"Mom," I cried out.

I felt the cum surge through my cock. Felt it gush in rhythmic bursts, spilling forth into her. She let out a short hard grunt and her body spasmed with her own orgasm. She collapsed onto me, her face pressed into my neck. Our breathing was ragged, but our chests seemed somehow to rise and fall in synch with each other.

I felt all the muscles of her cunt continue to spasm, milking whatever drops remained from me.

She kissed me again. Softly, passionately this time. She held my face between her fingers.

She pulled away and looked at me, her hands still on my cheeks.

"I love you," she said.

"I know."

She looked at me, her lips curling into another smile.

"You know we have this at home on DVD?" I nodded. "Do you want to watch it again at home?"

I nodded, smiling, and she kissed me again.