Walter has had a number of interesting experiences since turning 18 with mature women. His experience continues as he graduates from High School.
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Graduation from Brighton High School was on a Thursday which meant there were three days of graduation parties to go to. Walter went to one held by the jazz band drummer Thursday night. On Friday night he went to Doug Slade's party. Doug was one of the "one-two punch" of the championship basketball team, a six foot, 6 inch dark black athletic machine. He also played baseball and ran track.
He had asked Walter how to get a bunch of music to play without reloading the record player or having a DJ. Walter spent about six hours in the school studio recording Doug's records (and some of his own) onto 120 minute cassettes so the tape only needed to be changed one or twice during a party. Doug felt obligated to invite Walter to his party even though they really weren't part of the same crowd, so Walter went.
Doug's house was only about a half mile walk down the power line right-of-way from Walter's so he walked there and arrived through the back. The house was a large, double split level, with the middle section containing living room, dining room, and kitchen just above grade. The left wing had two bedrooms eight steps up from the center section and a family room eight steps down. The right wing had a master suite up and the garage underneath with the driveway sloping down from the side. Walter walked to the deck where some kids were hanging out and went in through the back door into the kitchen.
The party was just getting started, and the music he had set up for Doug was already playing loudly from the downstairs family room. The crowd was mostly the various basketball, baseball, and track jocks that Doug hung out with plus the jock-ettes and groupies. Walter picked up a soda from the open ice-tub and walked through the house, saying hello to some people and getting involved in a couple of conversations. This was not his crowd but he made nice for a while. Walter found Doug on a sofa in the family room, with his girlfriend wrapped around him, talking to a couple of his buddies. He said hi and Doug thanked him for "the tunes."
Walter wandered off, and decided he would head out. As he headed into the kitchen, he saw a black woman in a long burgundy dress struggling to get the full trash bag out of the can. He quickly went over and said "Let me help you" as he helped her pull it out. It was very heavy with soda bottles and plates.
"Thank you," she sighed. She turned towards him and he got his first good look at her. She was not ebony, but a soft chocolate-brown with straightened, shoulder length black hair. Her face was slender, with high cheek-bones touched with rouge and a hint of crows-feet at the eyes and laugh lines at the corners of her mouth.
"Where would you like me to take this?" He asked, now deciding he might stay a while. A beautiful, mature woman was more interesting to him than the shallow girls of high school.
"Just put it at the top of the stairs," She said, pointing to a door. He opened the door and saw the stairway down to the garage, so he placed the bag in the corner of the landing and closed the door.
"Thank you very much," She said, extending her hand. "I'm Doug's mom, Marjorie Slade."
"I'm Walter Meyers," he replied, shaking her had delicately. Had she kept hold of his hand for a moment to long?
"I have not met you before. How do you know my son?"
"We're not really close. I have access to the jazz band sound studio and he asked me to record some of his albums onto long tapes so he can play the music without having to change records all the time. He invited me because of that, but I really don't hang-out with much of this crowd." Her eyes lit up when he mentioned jazz. She pulled him over to the dinette and sat down.
She started asking questions about his taste in jazz, the different styles of jazz, who was the best. She was very into cool jazz and they talked about the different styles of jazz that each liked. He asked her how she got into jazz.
"I was heavily involved in jazz dance," she told him.
"I thought you were a dancer!" Walter exclaimed. "You look like a dancer." And she did. She had strong firm logs leading up to reasonably wide hips, a flat stomach but almost no chest (Think of Debbie Allen in the series 'Fame'). He used his comment as an excuse to further check her out and discovered he could see under the smooth fabric of her dress that she had a bra on, but it looked almost like a training bra, as it appeared she had very little in it.
"Is that good?" she asked with a smile.
"Very definitely!" he stated. "I've been into theater and drama for a while. I noticed that most of the serious dancers all seem to have a very similar body shape to yours." Walter talked a little about his theater work and asked her about her dancing. She explained how she danced all through high school, and got a scholarship to University of Buffalo to study dance. She danced classical ballet and modern jazz dance, and minored in law while she was there. From the way her eyes lit up, she obviously loved to dance. Walter was suddenly thirsty and walked over to the bin of sodas and grabbed a Sprite. He offered to get her one.
"No thank you," she answered. "But if you would pour me another glass of wine from the bottle in the fridge." She handed him an empty glass that was sitting on the table.
"I could do that, or I could even make you a wine cooler."
"What's that?"
"It combines wine with soda and fruit flavors," he explained. "I made them on my dad's boat for the cocktail hour sometimes."
"It sounds good," she smiled. "Make me one."
He opened the first upper cupboard next to the fridge and found a highball glass. Opened the refrigerator and found some white wine and a diet Sprite. As she watched, he grabbed an orange that was sitting in a basket on the counter and cut it in half, then cut a thin slice off one side, squeezing the rest into the glass. He dropped in four ice cubes, half a glass of the soda, and filled it to the top with the wine. The young man professionally placed the orange slice on the rim, a straw in the side, and handed it her with great flourish.
