Dark Cinema

The following story is a sequel to 'Me, Mum and Pans People' and it may make more sense if you read that first. Alternatively, you can just accept the unusual mother/son relationship and read on.

Many thanks for all the email responses to 'Pans.' It's great to receive your feedback and to hear about your own experiences.

This story doesn't fit comfortably into any single Literotica category, and be advised it does include depictions of incest and aggression. Whatever your personal tastes, I hope it will entertain.

R.C.

All characters are eighteen or older.

* * *

London, 1972.

I'd seen

Straw Dogs

shortly after its initial release the previous year. Susan George was one of my fantasy girls at the time. I loved seeing her dressed-up in classic English school uniforms in

Twinky

and

Spring and Port Wine.

Although Susan the sexy schoolgirl was absent in

Straw Dogs

, the oft miniskirted Ms George showed more flesh in that film than ever before, and the graphic rape scene made me think inevitably of my mum.

* * *

Munching a second mouthful of baked beans on toast, I casually perused the local newspaper which stood partially propped-up against an HP Sauce bottle on the kitchen table. In small boxes down one side of the page, the local cinema listings proffered: extravagant disaster at the Regal, where fat Shelley Winters croaked heroically underwater in

The Poseidon Adventure;

banjos and buggery in

Deliverance

at the Odeon, and at our local flea pit: Susan George having her knickers ripped off, prior to being brutally fucked on her sofa. Susan showed her tits in that one, too.

So it was the second time around for

Straw Dogs

and this year the film was showing at the Gaumont – the dodgiest, dirtiest theatre north of the river.

In an attempt to stay afloat, the decrepit old cinema had in recent years been showing some of the raunchier offerings from the previous decade. Along with

Hammer Horror

double bills, were screened cinematic masterpieces such as

Candy

and

Bikini Beach;

the

St Trinian's

schoolgirls being perennial favourites. The old place had recently gained a reputation as a magnate for the dirty mac brigade and I'd actually witnessed a middle-aged man tossing himself off in the dark whilst

Barbarella

'strips in space.'

Later that evening, Mum and me relaxed on the big sofa in our cosy little suburban living room. The telly in the corner was on as usual, the lights off (as usual), and the room was bathed in the warm orange glow emanating from our three bar electric fire.

'Mum,' I enquired, '...do you fancy going to the pictures this week?'

'Not really...what's on?' Her eyes remained fixed impassively on the TV screen.

'Straw Dogs.'

Almost imperceptibly, her small body quivered as if brushed by passing ghost, 'That's an 'X' isn't it?'

'Yeah, I think so.'

Of course, I knew the film was X Rated. I also knew within the split second the ghost had taken to pass through her, that Mum had heard about the rape scene.

'Where's it on?' she asked casually.

'The Gaumont.'

'Oh.'

Mum knew the Gaumont; she'd been there as a little girl - at a time when the old cinema enjoyed a better reputation.

We were playing a game. Mum and me knew each other's minds: she knew precisely what had been said, felt, and surmised over the duration of our brief conversation, and so did I.

* * *

The following evening, I stood in the narrow hallway of our little Edwardian terraced house waiting for Mum. I selected my raincoat which I judged appropriate for an outing to the Gaumont, then reconsidered; the weather was clement and my tank-top sweater would suffice. As I slipped the coat back onto its peg, Mum appeared on the upstairs landing wearing a navy-blue pinstriped blazer over a white blouse, with a black pleated miniskirt. Her legs were bare, except for white ankle socks. I smiled. The schoolgirl look suited her. Although in her late thirties, Mum had kept her petite figure and young looks. Her elfish face peered at me enquiringly from beneath her trademark Mary Quant bob, recently coloured a radiant dark auburn,

'Do I look alright?'

I smiled admiringly, 'Beautiful, Mum.'

She sat on the stairs a few steps up, fastening the buckles on her shiny black patent shoes, and I looked up her miniskirt. Staring at Mum's white cotton knickers, I felt my cock move in my jeans. The semitransparent white triangle between her legs left little to the imagination, gently accentuating the small fleshy mounds on either side of her slit.

Looking up at me, and then at the bulge in my jeans, Mum exclaimed with feigned indignation,

'Are you looking up my skirt?'

She smiled her naughty smile, seductively parting her pretty legs. I squeezed my cock through my jeans. I loved her slim pale legs.

'Come on,' she giggled, '...we'll be late.'

* * *

It was a fifteen minute stroll through the leafy suburban backstreets to the Gaumont. Mum took my arm as we walked, the orange evening sunshine casting lengthening shadows over the quiet roads and houses. Behind net curtains families settled into their evening routines, clearing plates and snuggling into favourite armchairs to watch Coronation Street or Monty Python on the telly.

Almost there, we turned a corner into Lilly Avenue, passing dilapidated Victorian mansions. Architectural relics from a time now gone, most of the once proud houses now stood empty and unloved, their gardens neglected and overgrown. We had crossed over the invisible boundary-line into Gaumont territory.

As Mum and me approached the high street, we noticed a tall heavily built man sitting on a low garden wall ahead of us. I judged him to be in his late fifties, maybe older. Even at a distance I could see his shifty eyes staring at my mum's legs, leering voyeuristically from beneath the brim of his flat cap. His hands were pushed deep into the pockets of his grubby dark-grey raincoat which, despite the pleasant warm evening, was fully buttoned.

'Scary!' Mum whispered.

In a hushed voice I joked, 'We're in Gaumont Land, now!'

Mum tightened her grip on my arm pulling herself closer to me, and then to my bemusement, she held me back, slowing our walking pace. Despite our close proximity, the impervious pervert's gaze remained fixed on my mum's sexy bare legs, and his raincoat was shaking. From the corner of my eye, I saw Mum reach down to her side, gently scratching her thigh, lifting the hem of her pleated miniskirt. As we passed the lecherous old man, Mum turned and pulled-up the front of her little black skirt, flashing her skimpy white knickers in front of him.

Her pace quickened and we hurried along Lilly Avenue towards the cinema.

I whispered disbelievingly, 'He was wanking to your legs, and you flashed him!'

Mum looked up at me half-smiling, 'Yeah, well, so what? ...no harm done.'

I felt a shiver of salacious exhilaration pass through her small body.

* * *

It seemed to take ages for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Mum was still clinging to my arm,

'Let's sit in the back row,' she whispered, and giggled softly.

I could see by the light provided courtesy of Pearl & Dean that the old picture house was nearly empty. Mum and me made our way to the seats unofficially reserved for courting couples. We had the back row all to ourselves and we sat right in the middle. Thunderbird 1 morphed into a multicoloured ice-lolly and zoomed off to Mars or somewhere. I put my left arm around my mum's slender shoulders and leaning down towards her, I kissed her pretty lips; a long lingering kiss.

As we embraced, the big red curtains closed over the screen with an audible

swish

and the projector above our heads clicked off, plunging the theatre into an impenetrable blackness. Mum caressed my crotch as I put my hand up inside her pleated skirt, relishing the tantalizing warmth of her soft inner thighs.

Then there were people in our aisle: fumbling, groping their way towards us in the darkness. We heard hushed voices heading in our direction, then the sound of two retractable seats coming down. Mum and me straightened up. When the curtains opened and the projector above our heads whirred once more into life, we looked to our left to see a young couple sitting just two seats along from Mum.

My heart leapt. The girl was seated nearest to Mum, and she was gorgeous!: petite and little like Mum, but much younger – eighteen, maybe – with long straight blonde hair that brushed her small breasts as she turned to look at us. Her brief courteous smile of acknowledgement was stunningly beautiful even in the dark cinema. She wore a very short yellow minidress with black over-the-knee leather boots. The high-heeled kinky boots were expensive looking and I guessed her parents were flush. When she turned back to face the screen, I allowed myself to look at her legs. They were slim and sexy and she wasn't wearing tights. I had a hard-on.

My admiration was reciprocated: her longhaired boyfriend leaned forward, peering past his date. He was trying to grow a moustache, with limited success. The teenage lad stared at my mum, checking her out. I guessed what he was thinking; dressed in her blazer and black pleated miniskirt, my mum looked the epitome of a sexy schoolgirl. It was only when his girlfriend turned her head towards him that the dark haired young man broke off his gaze.

Mum watched

Straw Dogs

quietly, making few comments. I knew she'd only agreed to see the film because of one scene, and that was near the end. Mum and me kissed and touched a little bit. Our back row neighbours had no way of knowing that we were mother and son, but this was the first time we'd made-out in public and it felt naughty and exciting. It wasn't very long before the young couple began kissing, too. The blonde girls' short yellow dress began to ride-up and her knickers were showing. Mum saw me looking, and surreptitiously slid her hand over my crotch, unfastening the buttons on my jeans.

I whispered, 'Careful Mum, I'm not wearing any underwear – my cock might come out.'

The couple were kissing again and, unbeknown to his girlfriend, the young man was watching us. I ran my hand up my mum's bare leg, slowly pushing her skirt up.

I whispered, 'Mum, I think the naughty scene is coming up soon.'

Susan George wore a blue dressing gown. The man was in her house.

Mum focused eagerly on the cinema screen. The young man stopped staring at my mum's legs and watched the film.

Ripping her bathrobe, the man pushed Susan back onto the sofa, threatening her with his fist. Then he was on top of her. Susan's erect nipples were visible beneath her white T-shirt and her dressing gown fell back, showing her sexy legs. 'No! ...No!' she begged. He tore her nightshirt away, exposing her lovely tits...

I saw Mum glance to her left. The young couple were engrossed in the film, staring avidly at the screen. Mum pulled-up the front of her miniskirt. Hooking her left thumb inside the elastic waistband of her white knickers, she stretched the front right down between her legs, openly exposing her shaved slit - and started to masturbate. Staring straight ahead, Mum licked her fingers; opening her legs wide, she frigged herself to the rape scene.

The burly man ripped off Susan's pink knickers... 'No ...no,' she whimpered...

My mum masturbated openly in the back row of the dark cinema; using her two middle fingers to frig her clit, her hand was a blur. I felt the seats shaking and, as one, the young couple turned their heads and looked over at us. The blonde girls' mouth fell open; she covered it with her hand, but continued to watch wide-eyed as Mum slid back in her seat, grinding her hips.

Susan winced in pain as the intruder pushed his cock into her, fucking her, raping her...

The pretty blonde turned, whispering urgently to her boyfriend. When she looked back at us, I opened the front of my jeans and masturbated in front of her, and she was watching.

The rapist spunked in Susan and she seemed to like it...

Two seats away, her hand still clasped over her mouth, the teenage girl watched transfixed, mesmerized, as Mum and me masturbated together. She wasn't yet aware that her boyfriend had his cock out and was wanking, too. Peering over his girlfriends shoulder, he was tossing himself off to my mum.

A second man entered the room and raped Susan, fucking her hard and rough...

Mum's eyes never left the screen as she lay back in her seat, angling her hips towards the young couple. Her legs were splayed wide as she vigorously pumped two stiff middle fingers in and out of her clean-shaven slit.

The two men left Susan lying exhausted on her sofa.

Mum turned her attention to the teen couple, looking directly at them and frigging herself fast. The young man jerked himself, rudely exhibiting his stiff penis for Mum to see. In a moment of shocked realisation, the blonde grasped the arms of her seat, gripping tightly, and stared disbelievingly down at her boyfriend's cock as he wanked himself. Lost in the moment, the enraptured teenager was too horny to care that he'd been caught. He swivelled in his seat, and he and Mum masturbated to each other. The outraged blonde pushed back hard into her chair as a long string of white spunk spurted from her boyfriend's cock, making a sticky mess on her minidress. Leaning across the shock stricken girl, the young man jerked pearls of sperm onto her bare legs, his eyes never leaving my mum as she masturbated for him.

Shoving the spent teenage lad aside, the indignant girl stumbled past him, strutting swiftly and purposefully towards a side-exit. Hastily fastening his flared trousers, the girl's ex-boyfriend pursued her out of the cinema.

Mum slid her knickers down her legs, taking them right off, and stuffed them into her blazer pocket.

She turned to me and whispered, 'Come on, let's go.'

* * *

There was no light in the long alleyway that ran along the side of the cinema. Taking my hand, Mum led me to the far end, away from the high street. Standing on a narrow concrete step and leaning back against the cinema wall, she spread her legs.

My mum looked into my eyes, 'Come on, fuck me.'

Quickly checking right and left, I pushed my jeans down and stroked my cock so it was fully hard again. Mum lifted the front of her short pleated skirt showing her hairless slit, gyrating her hips seductively. I put my stiff cock up my mum's skirt and slid it into her little cunt. Her hole was wet and hot – ready to be fucked - and it slipped in easily. I fucked my mum. Her arms were around my neck and she whispered dirty sexy things,

'That's it ...fuck your mummy up her naughty little skirt ...uh, uh! ...that's what you like, isn't it ...ahh! ...fuck me up my skirt ...my little miniskirt ...Uh! ...I saw you wanking in front of that young girl ...ah! ...Ahh! ...were you masturbating to her legs? ...Uh! ...I know you want to put your dirty cock up her dress ...Ahh! ...mummy'll let you do that ...mummy'll put on a school uniform for you ...Uhhh!'

She was getting close - I eased off, letting my mum fuck my cock - I knew in doing that, it made it easier for her to cum. She held my buttocks, fucking my cock, fucking it fast...

'Ah ...I'll let you spunk in me ...Ah! ...let your sperm go in me ...ah! ...make mummy pregnant ...Uhh!...'

A loud

thump

sounded right next to us. Instinctively, I pulled my cock out of my mum and regained my jeans as a wooden door flew open beside us. We bolted through the long alleyway towards the high street, a dog barking angrily from the dark doorway. Then it was over. Whoever had disturbed us had not given chase. Mum and me stood panting in the neon light of the Gaumont, recovering our breath.

The high street was quiet apart from an occasional passing car; a slight chill touched the night air. As we approached Lilly Avenue, we saw the animated figures of our two teenage friends from the cinema. Though some way off in the distance, we could see that they were clearly in the throws of a full-blown argument. The blonde girls' long straight hair flashed beneath the amber street lights, flailing like a horse's tail as she paced back and forth gesticulating reprovingly while the young man stood static, arms akimbo with his head tilted to one side.

We stopped beside a boarded-up sweetshop, wondering if we should make a detour to avoid the warring couple.

Mum smiled, 'You can't really blame her – he did

let himself go

all over her pretty yellow dress!'

'True,' I laughed. 'Did you see that dog?'

'No, but he sounded pretty fierce!' She stood on tiptoe whispering close in my ear,

'And I was nearly ready to cum!'

'Me too! Let's get home.'

We resumed our walk along the high street nearing our turning. A hundred yards or so ahead, the teenage couple parted company with a few final expletives. Head bowed, his hands stuffed into his trouser pockets, the young man crossed the high street. Tossing back her shimmering hair, the girl turned off the main road into Lilly Avenue, her high boot heels

clip-clopping

loudly.

Mum smirked, 'That'll give you something to look at on the way home!'

We turned the corner leaving the orange lights of the high street behind. On either side of us the old abandoned houses of Lilly Avenue loomed eerily tall and silent behind wild bushy hedges and tumbledown fences. Ahead, the

clip-clop

echoed lonely in the quiet avenue as the blonde teenage girl in the yellow minidress walked briskly home.

'Damn it, she's getting away!' I joked.

Mum answered quietly, 'Never mind, when I get you home,

I'll

be a young girl for you!'

I sighed, 'Oh, yes please!'

Pulling me close she whispered, 'If you're a good boy ...I'll put on my school uniform ...I know you like my little school skirt, don't you! ...I'll be a naughty little schoolgirl, and you can fuck me!'

I quickened our pace, and she laughed.

Up ahead, the

clip-clopping

stopped abruptly, followed by a stifled scream.

In the dark distance, two shadowy figures struggled momentarily, then disappeared.

'Fuck!' I exclaimed, 'Somebody's got her!'

We stopped, and I turned to my mum. 'What shall we do?'

She hesitated for a second or two, then grabbed my arm, 'Come on!'

* * *

A light glowed dimly from somewhere inside the old abandoned house. This was it.

Mum and me looked at each other, 'Mum, we could get

killed

or something!'

'So what should we do, call the police?' she whispered. 'By the time we find a phone box...'

'But Mum, look at me! I'm not bloody Cassius Clay!'

Mum began creeping stealthily up the uneven stone pathway; a dislodged roof tile cracked beneath her shoe. I followed, whispering urgently, '

Mum

!'

Standing in the big Victorian porch, Mum and me listened: the old house was silent. She pushed the front door gently and it swung inwards with an alarming

creak

, revealing bare floorboards and peeling wallpaper. A warm orange light was flickering weakly from a room somewhere at the back of the building. Mum went in.

'

Mum

!' I hissed.

It was immediately apparent that the old decaying house had suffered badly at the hands of vandals. Large chunks of plaster were missing from the walls on either side of the hallway exposing slatted wooden laths. To our right, a hole the size a dustbin lid provided a window into one of the two front rooms. We stepped gingerly through crumbled plaster and all manner of itinerant debris. The big house smelled strongly of damp and piss.

As we cautiously crept deeper into the dark interior, I thought I heard a man's low voice coming from the direction of the flickering light. I tugged at the back of Mum's blazer, but she ignored me.