Monday, 17 December 2012



Price: $0.99 | Available From: Smashwords | Wordcount: 1903 | Category: Older Woman


Brandy starts out as just a teacher to our young narrator, and a decent one at that. However, it's not long before everything changes, and powerful desires begin to surface. One night everything comes to a head, and our hero realises just what it is he's been missing all along. "Brandy" is a short erotic tale of attraction and desire, featuring a relationship with an older woman.


She told me to call her Brandy. We were sitting in her car outside the building where she lived when she first told me her name. I didn't think it suited her. I was more used to thinking of her as Ms Harman, my maths teacher.

As we climbed out of the car I wondered just how this could be happening. It was hazy. Ms Harman . . . Brandy, I mean, had started teaching my class at the start of the year. She'd had a hard time of it. Mine is a boy's school, and the kids in my year aren't exactly nice. Brandy was one of those teachers where you could sense their nervousness right off, and so after a few sessions things broke down pretty badly. She'd spend half the lessons calling for quiet and not getting any, and the other half trying to teach despite being completely ignored.

I guess I'd tried to be nice to her. A couple of times I had stayed after class to help her tidy up and we'd ended up chatting. She'd been really easy to speak to on those occasions; almost like a friend rather than a woman at least ten years my senior. I'd never really thought that much about her until that night.

What happened that night was: we were sitting in her class, just chatting as usual, about half an hour after the school day had ended. And she offered to give me a lift back to my house.

"Sure," I said, not suspecting a thing. She finished locking up and we both went out to her car. The school was pretty much empty by now. We got in and she sat at the steering wheel for a while, not looking at me. Then she said:

"You know, if you wanted, we could go to my place first, for a while. If you'd like." She sounded so nervous about asking that for a moment I forgot how much older than me she was. Did she really mean what I thought she meant? I looked at her. Brandy was about thirty, I guess, (I'd just passed eighteen at the time--I was old for my year) and she wasn't bad looking. Her hair was tied back in a short, blonde ponytail, and she had a great body. Her tits were large and round, but not massive.

I nodded. "Sure." She smiled at me and started the engine.

And then before I knew it we were there, and as we sat outside in the car she said, "Call me Brandy, by the way. That's my name."

"All right." I smiled. "Brandy." I tried it out. It was weird to call a teacher by her first name. It felt personal.

I followed her upstairs to her flat and she flicked on the lights as we entered. The place was kind of drab looking: sparsely furnished, most everything painted off-white. Books were scattered everywhere. I wondered if she lived alone, and decided just from the look of the place that she must.

"Sit down," she said. I did so, and she got us both drinks. Wine for her and a can of coke for me. She sat primly down next to me on the sofa and we took each other in. She was wearing a knee length skirt and a plain, green top that clung tightly to her, accentuating her tits. I wondered if she'd chosen it specially, knowing that tonight she'd invite me home. The thought made me feel light-headed and I took a sip of my coke.

"Listen . . ." she said, and then trailed off. The tension was huge, but not uncomfortable, as if we were waiting for something shared to begin. And so I decided to start it myself. I'd always been pretty comfortable around girls, and the nervousness I felt at being with an older woman was starting to dissolve. Seeing Brandy's own nervousness made it a lot easier.

I moved closer. I reached up and, after a little gentle fiddling, unclipped her ponytail so that her hair fell down around her face. She smiled and bit her lip, looking almost painfully shy. Then we kissed. Her lips tasted strongly of wine.

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