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.
As she leaned forward to sip it, he noticed that although she has very small breasts but wearing a black silk bra with red accent lace. 'It looks just like one I used to check out in the Fredrick's catalog,' he thought. 'Although it was filled with a C or D cup in the catalog. Still, it looks good on her.' It was just one more thing making him interested in her.
"Mmmm," she said. "This is good!" He poured some of the soda in his glass with some of the wine, but he kept his own drink weak.
"So why did you stop dancing?" He asked her, getting her back on track of talking about herself.
"I didn't want to, but Doug came along during my senior year." She explained how she was dating one of the college basketball stars and during the summer, they went on vacation together. After a few beers, she got weak and he finally convinced her to "go all the way" because "he loved her." It only took one of those two times during that vacation that she got pregnant.
"He was a gentleman about it. We got married and I got a job as a legal secretary while he finished his senior year and got picked up by an NBA team." They moved to Los Angeles and she kept the house and raised the baby while he traveled for the first year. He was well paid and they had a nice house in Las Angeles. But Marjorie got bored with that and when back to school for to work on her law degree.
"Two years later I came home one evening from class and found Dougie playing by himself in the living room while Douglas was banging our nanny in the upstairs bathroom!" She told me. "I was very angry at the time, but now I realize that I contributed to the problem. I was more interested in school than I was Doug's father." Her glass was empty and Walter got up and refilled it as she continued talking. He made this one a little stronger this time. He did not know if he was going to get inside that dress, but the idea was definitely making him respond in a "firm" manner.
She continued to tell her story, completing her final year of pre-law and then doing the normally four years of law school in six years by going part time. She sent her resumes out and Kodak hired her as a junior-junior corporate lawyer. She knew she got the job because she was both a woman and African-American (she quoted with her fingers). She stuck with it, including putting up with some sexual harassment, but maintained her integrity and slowly got promoted. She was now the equivalent of a senior partner in a law firm, one step below the corporate vice-president for legal affairs. She had moved to Fairport for the quality schools and especially the quality basketball program. Walter gave her all his attention, responding and encouraging her to talk about herself, while he kept imagining what her body was like under that dress. His previous experience with older women was good, but the seduction part was like walking through a mine field.
They were interrupted when a couple of girls came in and thanked "Mrs. Slade" for the nice party. Walter realized the party was thinning out, but he wanted a way to hang out after everyone was gone. The trash was full again, so he pulled the bag out and put a new bag in.
"Can you show me where the trash goes?" he asked her, picking up the bag.
"It's down stairs in the garage," she said, standing up slowly. She walked to the door with her glass in hand, and held on to the handrail as she descended. He picked up the other bag and carefully went down the stairs behind her, balancing the load of two full trash bags. At the bottom of the stairs was a two-car garage with some storage space in front of the two cars. Marjorie lead him over to the trash can and he put both bags in the wheeled can, then turned around to look at the cars, a silver-blue Volvo all-wheel-drive station wagon and a new looking 1980 BMW M1 sports car in dark silver.
"That is one sweet car!" Walter said, admiring its smooth lines.
"I don't let Doug drive this one," she said with a wave of her hand. "Get in and check it out." The young man opened the driver's door and sat it the tan leather seats. It still had the new leather smell, mixed with a flower smell that he figured must be her normal perfume. The manual shift was leather wrapped, as was the emergency/parking brake handle. Even the stereo plate complemented the interior.
