Brighton Graduate Ch. 01byVictorBlum©
Walter has had a number of interesting experiences since turning 18 with mature women. His experience continues as he graduates from High School.
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."
"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.
"Do you like it?" She asked, hanging her arms on the roof and the top of the door. She was standing so that the smooth curve of her tummy was right at his eye level, thinly covered by the burgundy silk of her dress.
Oh yeah," he whispered, looking around the inside. "It's one sweet car. I could have some fun with it but I'd probably end up getting a ticket." He got out and stood up but Marjorie did not move, leaving them face to face with just inches between their faces. Walter could almost feel heat from her body as he stood just inches away, and his shaft was hardening again. It had eased while he was looking at the car, but it came right back.
She looked at him and realized she needed move, but as she backed up, her heel caught in the garage floor expansion joint and she stumbled. Walter caught her hand and pulled her upright, causing her wine glass to fall and shatter. She rebounded against his body and he wrapped his arms around her to steady her. Now he could definitely feel the warmth of her belly and groin through his clothes. He wondered if she could feel the swollen member as he steadied her and backed away. She looked down as they separated and Walter knew she did feel it.
"I'm sorry," he stammered, acting a little flustered at this. It was not a very smooth approach, but at least it was an opening.
"You have nothing to apologize for," she smiled at him. "An old drunk woman shouldn't be throwing herself on you"
"You are certainly not an old woman. I find you very attractive."
"Be careful young man," she cautions, waving a finger in the young man's face. "I am obviously old enough to be your mother. You shouldn't be lying to me just to make me feel better." Her words may not have said it, but she definitely had noticed his virility.
"Why should your age make a difference in your beauty?" he responded, trying to look sincere. "You are very nice to look at, with a set of incredible legs, and very captivating to talk to."
"You are very sweet, but incorrigible" She turned and started up the stairs. Walter followed, admiring the sheer fabric of her dress covering her wonderfully tight ass...without a panty line! He glanced down to her ankles to double check that she was not wearing pantyhose. She was wearing nothing but that lace bra under her dress.
"Nice butt too," he commented softly. She stopped abruptly, and then turned slowly to face him. From two steps above she looked down on him.
"Are you trying to seduce me...to hit on me?" Walter smiled and shrugged. She stepped down one step and they were almost eye to eye.
"Well?' she asked, just inches from his face. He looked nervous to her, like he might be in trouble. But his mind was calculating what answer would move him closer to the goal.
"I guess my answer would depend on if you would be offended or complemented" She raised both arms and rested them on his shoulders, fingers intertwined with his hair.
"Definitely complemented," she answered. Walter leaned forward and brushed her lips with his, and she closed her eyes. He pushed forward a little more and then she pulled his head to her, crushing his lips. Her lips opened and he automatically opened his mouth so she could drive her tongue into his mouth. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed the globes of her tight ass. She released his mouth and leaned back a little, but he pulled her hips to his, grinding his hard shaft against her pubic mound. She pushed back hard, pressing herself against his shaft, rubbing her clit against it through the clothes.
"Oh God; I want this," she whispered in his ear "It's been too long!" There was no pretence of games now. It was obvious where this was taking them.
"Do you want to stay down here?" he asked her.
"No," she said taking his hand as she turns up the stairs "Follow me." She eased the door at the top of the stairs open and saw no one in the kitchen or dinning room. The party had thinned out, and no one could be seen on this level of the house. The music was still loud from the family room, although no voices could be heard.
"Wait here" she said, squeezing his hand at the kitchen door. She went towards the stairs to the family room. "Doug" she called loudly, then went down the stairs. She found Doug and Bradley each on a couch with their respective girlfriend. Both girls had their clothes slightly askew. Walter could hear Marjorie tell Doug she was going to bed and she would finish cleaning up the kitchen in the morning. Doug said he would clean-up down here before he went to bed and Marjorie came back up the stairs. She paused at the kitchen door to make sure Doug was not looking, and then quickly lead Walter down the hall and past the powder room to her bedroom.
"I don't think Doug will be disturbing us at all," she whispered to the young man. She opened the door and ushered him through it, then closed the door behind them. The loud music from the family room was almost completely cut off with the door closed. Underfoot, the cream colored Berber carpet was extra soft - like it was double padded.
Marjorie led Walter down a short hallway and he glimpsed a large master bathroom as they walked by. The passage then opened into a beautiful, open bedroom. The walls were painted in an orange-tan textured paint that looked like stucco or mud walls, while the windows were covered with roll-down straw shades. The back wall had a pair of French doors that must have gone out to a deck or balcony, also covered in straw shades. There were some African scene prints on the walls above very the dark mahogany furniture. The centerpiece of the room was a queen sized four-post bead with white mosquito net draped on the upper spreader bars and hanging down over the head and foot of the bed. At the foot of the bed was a mahogany chest covered with a leopard-skin rug.
"This room is beautiful," Walter whispered. "And it is definitely complete with you in it. You are absolutely a queen here."
"A queen?" She said. She faced him and moved a step closer so that he had no breathing room. He could feel the warmth of her body and smell the musky mixture of her perfume, alcohol, and sex. She looked sternly at him and said, "I understand perfectly. You want to have sex with me, don't you?"
Walter now knew he was going to have sex with this beautiful black woman. She had stated it as a question, but the answer was obvious. His hard, throbbing cock was straining at the zipper of his pants but he just looked into her eyes. His mind screamed how much he wanted to screw her silly but he remained silent and pretended to be more innocent so that she might think she was in control. And she pressed further.
"Walter, have you ever had sex with a black woman before?"
"Do you want to have sex with me, Walter?" Her sudden change into taking charge excited him, and caused his shaft to throb. Her gaze lowered from his eyes to the bulge in his pants. Walter's gaze followed hers so that they were both staring down at the bulge of his hard cock.
"Yes." he said finally. "I want to get inside you so much that I can hardly think of anything else. I have a condom if we need..."
"I had a hysterectomy last year," she interupted as she started to undo his shirt buttons. "I can't get pregnant, but I've had no sex since then, so please be gentle." She slid her hand down the front of his pants and caressed the hard cock through his pants. "I have never been with a white man before but I want to be with you. I need you." She placed her right hand behind his head and pulled his lips close to hers.
As their lips touched, she murmured, "If you want me to stop, just tell me." Then she pressed her soft lips onto his. Their tongues found one another and start by wrestling and finally ended up entwined in a soul searing kiss. His white hands slid across the smooth fabric of her dress and rested on her soft ass, gently squeezing and kneading it through her dress.
She nibbled at his earlobe and whispered huskily, "Remember Walter, if you don't want me to do this, you just have to tell me to stop." Walter's answer was reaching behind her and unzipping her dress. She stepped back and let the dress fall to the floor.
There she stood, in her heels and the black lace bra, seeming to fill the room with her glow. Her skin looked perfectly smooth, without a blemish. Her long legs were still muscular and strong, leading to a small, dark triangle of short pubic hair. She shaved only enough to keep it below her bikini line, but obviously kept the whole mound trimmed short. Walter could not believe how absolutely beautiful she really was and stood in awe.
"You are very beautiful," he gasped. He stepped forward and as they kissed again, his hands moved down to Marjorie's tits. He squeezed them against her rib cage through the bra, then found the front catch and released it. She dropped her arms letting it fall to the floor with her dress and at last he got to see her warm, chocolate tits. They looked so enticing that he twisted and squeezed her hard nipples and watched her squirm.
"O-o-oh-h-h! Walter, that feels so good." she moaned and closes her eyes. He bent down and licked at her nipples teasingly before engulfing them and sucking them hungrily.
"O-o-oh-h-h baby, suck my tits!" she said in an unsteady voice as she pulled his head to her chest. His hands moved down her smooth body, caressing her silky skin and rubbing her ass. One hand gripped her ass as the other moved around and began to caress her public mound. Sudden she squealed quietly and her legs got wobbly as she had an orgasm. She all but fell and he stopped long enough to move her to the bed.