"Yes?"
"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."
"Sorry."
"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 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."
