Lessons for the Brat (Taboo Younger Woman Older Man Bundle) (The College Step) Read online

  Lessons for the

  Brat

  Ophelia Stephens

  All Rights Reserved © 2015

  Author’s Note: the characters in this story that engage in adult situations are 18+ years of age.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Content

  1: Educating the Brat

  2: Teaching the Brat

  3: Taming the Brat

  1: Educating the Brat

  1

  I am not living up to my full potential. Missing out on a chance for a better life, a great life. Letting great chances just go by. I will never be able to make a good living and be independent from a man. Or so my mother says. And she is one to talk!

  So what if I don't want to go to college? At least not right away. There is a real world out there that has nothing to do with book learning. I know I'm a smart girl, smart enough anyways. I've been poring over books for the past 12 years. I know nothing but school and studying.

  Why is it so hard to believe that now, at eighteen I finally want to see something else? Make some money on my own. Gather life experience and figure out what I truly want to do with my life instead of picking a random major at college just to make my mom happy.

  And Mike, my hunk of a stepdad. Of course he would agree - he teaches at a college himself and takes pride in it, even though he mainly teaches summer classes. The college is a three hour drive away and mom doesn't like for him to be away too much. He usually stays for the entire week when he is teaching and only comes home for the weekends.

  The thought of his stepdaughter not going to college is unbearable for him. It is shameful. I would not be living up to his standards - and those are set pretty high in many regards.

  I have no idea how my mom could land a man like him. When they got married two years ago it was like a giant elephant in the room - I even heard a few drunken voices at the tables commenting on the unlikely match. He's a bit younger than her, super buff, works out in the gym all the time, lifting heavy ass weights. And he's smart and successful, leading his own business next to teaching Economics at college. His dark hair is slightly graying at his temples, giving him that sexy sophisticated look. I have no idea what he sees in my mom, who's nothing but average.

  I admit, I have had a crush on him since the day my mom introduced us, even though his arrogance drives me mad sometimes. I don't like the definitive way he talks to me, the way he thinks he has any say in what I do or don't do. He has criticized me for the way I dress, for the way I do my hair and make-up, for the way I spend my free time and for the people I am seeing. He even pointed it out to my mom - who cares very little and is absolutely cool in that regard, I give her that - saying that my clothing is too revealing and that I dress like a slut sometimes. Geez, I'm a virgin for god's sake. The way I dress says nothing about what I actually do. I'm a smart girl, like I said.

  It is pretty obvious that we don't get along well, Mike and me, crush or not. And apparently, my mom intends to change that by sending me to go with him when he's heading up there for a teacher's conference. Killing two birds with one stone – awaken my appetite for college and improve the relationship between me and my stepdad.

  I just got finished with finals and finally have a little time to breathe before graduation - visiting Mike's stupid work place is the last thing I want to do with that recently won free time.

  "I am not spending my first free week in months at college with Mike!" I protest when my mom comes up with the suggestion.

  "Honey, it's only for one night," she replies. "He only has to be there for the conference one morning. You guys could drive up there a day early and he could show you around, maybe introduce you to the dean?"

  "I don't want that," I insist. "It's too late for registration anyways!"

  "Mike could pull some strings for you," she says, looking over to him sitting at the table across from her. "Couldn't you?"

  Mike looks up from his newspaper, raising his eyebrows. He is already tanned, even though summer is just beginning. My mom and I look like milky cheesecakes next to him. But I intend to change that, soon. Or I would like to - get some sun on my young and fit body instead of lurking around some dark and chilly college hallways.

  "Sure," he mumbles, now looking over at me. "I'm not going to pull any strings for an ungrateful little brat, though."

  I frown at him. "You won't have to. I'm not going, and that's that."

  "Let me phrase it this way," my mom says in her scary, overly sweet but daunting voice. "You either go, spent a mere 24 hours over there and at least have a little look - or there's not going to be any allowance for the entire summer. None."

  "You can't be serious?!" I yell at her. What kind of post graduation summer would that be, after all? Me having to work part time to be able to have even the slightest amount of fun? I mean, I want to work and all - but not right away. And not in some stupid part time job, just because my mom is punishing me.

  "Dead serious," she says, raising her chin in a defiant way.

  "So, it's only important to you that I go up there with Mike and look at it?" I ask. "Even if I don't end up enrolling?"

  My mom nods. "You know how I think about you not going to college straight away, but yes, that's the deal that's on the table."

  "You'd have to at least consider it, though," Mike adds, looking at me with a stern expression. "Prepare some questions for the dean and don't embarrass yourself and us when I introduce you."

  "Fine, whatever," I give in.

  I get up from the table, just to receive another snippy remark from Mike.

  "And I'd really appreciate it if you could wear something appropriate”, he mumbles, scanning me from head to toe in my short denim skirt and revealing tank top. “I wouldn’t want to introduce you when you’re looking like a cheap bimbo.”

  “Mike”, my mom scolds him. “Was that really necessary?”

  He shrugs. “I sure as hell wouldn’t let her walk around like that if it was my daughter.”

  “Well, thank god I’m not," I hiss, sticking out my tongue to him as I leave the room.

  He just can’t handle me, that little perv. I bet his smart ass brain has come up with more than one scenario in which he takes my tight little body any way he wants it. Oh, I kind of wish he would.

  And I bet he hates himself for it. Craving his teenage stepdaughter’s body. I should give him something to struggle with. And I will.

  2

  Luckily, the weather is on my side when it is time for our little road trip. It is sunny and warm, allowing for the skimpy little outfit that I have planned to wear for today.

  My mom can’t come with us, because she has to work. It is the first time ever that Mike and I would be alone together for more than a few moments. And if all works out as my mother has planned it in her crazy little head, we will end up best friends upon our return and I will finally be convinced to attend college right away. Keep dreaming, mother.

  She leaves for work early that morning, a few hours before Mike and I head out. I do pack a rather nice blouse and a short, but somewhat classy black pencil skirt in my bag. That’s just for the dean, though. For the trip itself, I am wearing my shortest plaid skirt in green and a white crop top that shows off my flat belly and the cute little piercing I got myself just a few months ago.

  I know he will hate it – or hate that he loves it. Just to tease him, I complete my outfit with white over knee socks and the cutest sheer white ruched panties I own. Who knows, if I play it right, he might get a little peak and it would drive him nuts. I decide that it is too hot to wear a bra. My perky little breasts don’t necessarily need one and I let them bounce free beneath my crop top. I will make sure he suffers for making me go on this useless trip instead of working on my summer tan by the pool side.

  I slip into my favorite sneakers and leave the house, suitcase in hand, humming innocently, eager to see his reaction to my super cute outfit.

  He just opened the trunk for me to put my suitcase in and freezes as I appear in the driveway. He is looking great as always, wearing a light summer shirt with rolled up sleeves, dark jeans with a black belt and his favorite Ray Ban sunglasses.

  I ignore his shocked face and lift my little suitcase up to throw it in the trunk, while he keeps leering at me, trying to hide his craving behind an expression of indignation.

  “You are not wearing that when we are seeing the dean!” He warns, lifting his index finger to underline what a naughty little girl I am.

  “Why not?” I teasingly ask him. Again, I stick out my tongue, arching my back so he can see my nipples peaking through the thin fabric of my crop top. He notices, glancing at my tits just for a second before he forces himself to look back at my eyes.

  “Get in the car!” He snaps and I do as am told, while he closes the trunk.

  I fasten my seatbelt, making sure it runs along between my tits, making them pop out a little more. Mike places himself in the driver’s seat just a moment after I am done adjusting my seatbelt. I am fiddling with my short skirt, neatly draping it around my thighs. I notice him glancing over for a moment before he starts the motor.

  “Can we get something to drink?” I nag after just a few minutes of driving.

  “Why didn’t you bring something with you from home?” He asks without taking his eyes off the road.

  “I want a diet Pepsi from McDonalds”, I reply. “With a straw!”

  “Fine”, he mumbles.

  We stop at a drive-thru and he buys me a giant diet Pepsi. I am not really that thirsty, but I need something to suck on.

  I take the straw between my lips after he hands me the Pepsi, seductively smiling at him. “Thanks, daddy.”

  He frowns at me. “Since when do you call me daddy? What’s wrong with you today?”

  “Why, isn’t that what you are?” I reply with a naughty grin. “My daddy who knows what’s best for me?”

  “I am just agreeing with your mom”, he says as we are getting back on the street, continuing our drive. “A little extra education never hurts. Especially someone like you.”

  “Someone like me?” I ask, pouting.

  He glances over at me, resting his eyes on my bare thighs just for a second. I bet it drives him nuts, the short skirt, the belly piercing that is peeping out between my crop top and the skirt.

  I sink a little lower in my seat, causing the skirt to move up just a little more, revealing about an extra inch of my thighs.

  “You are not a dumb kid”, he says, clearing his throat. “But sometimes I have the feeling that you don’t know what’s good for you. That you might be heading down a road full of wrong decisions.”

  I roll my eyes and noisily suck on the straw.

  “That is such a load of bullshit," I say. “Just because I don’t blindly follow the easiest way, heading for college with god knows what major. And because you don’t like the way I dress.”

  “That’s right," he says. “The way you dress gives all kinds of wrong ideas to men.”

  We stop at a red light and I use the chance to take it a step further. I sink down in my seat a little lower and ever so slightly spread my legs. Just a tiny little bit, lifting my right leg up a little, so it appears as if I was just making myself a little more comfortable. My skirt moves up dangerously high, barely covering my sheer white panties.

  “What’s wrong with the way I dress”, I whisper, casting him an innocent look. “It’s not my problem when there’s a bunch of pervs out there who get crazy ideas of fucking an innocent little school girl, just because she likes to wear a short skirt in summer. Don’t you think?”

  Mike looks over to me, and this time his eyes linger a lot longer than they have before, scanning my pale thigh with apparent lust. Even with the sunglasses I can tell the lecherous touch his gaze upon me shows. Again, he forces himself to look away, praying for a green light that is not there.

  I notice a little drop of sweat running along his right temple. He takes a deep breath and clears his throat.

  “That is not how the world functions, young girl," he lectures me, trying to keep his cool. “It’s the signals you send. There is not much you can do about the receiver’s reaction. All you can control is your own actions, your own signals. What you are trying to tell the world.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  The light turns green and Mike pushes on the gas, fully concentrated on driving, as if it is the most difficult task right now.

  “What do you mean, daddy?” I pester.

  “Stop it with the daddy crap!” He snaps at me. “You have never called me that. Why do you start now? Today?”

  “Well, you’re doing something quite daddy-like for me today, aren’t you," I say, moving my right leg in smooth constant motions from left to right, causing my skirt to move with it, baring more flesh, inch by inch. I am pretty sure he could see my panties by now, if he leaned over just a little bit. “You know, driving me to have a look at colleges and stuff.”

  He doesn’t say anything, his eyes fixating the road ahead of us. I can see the muscles of his buff arms flexing as he holds on to the steering wheel for dear life.

  And then I notice something even more pleasant. A clearly visible bulge between his legs. I got him. His excitement is clearly noticeable underneath the dark fabric of his jeans.

  A naughty grin appears on my face. And I can’t help but think about it. Think about my hot stepdad being the one. The one who’d take my carefully preserved virginity. Though he constantly accuses me of dressing and acting like a slut, I know it is unjustified.

  I have been saving myself, not wanting to let some random clumsy high school boy have the privilege of being my first.

  An older, experienced and good looking man who knows his way around a woman’s body, however – that could be interesting. Even if that man turns out to be my hunky stepdad.

  We are on the open road now. No traffic lights ahead. Just a straight long road ahead of us, with very little traffic around.

  I sink a bit lower in my seat, keeping my eyes straight ahead as I run alongside my right inner thigh with the tips of my fingers. Slowly, very slowly, making sure that he would notice. Of course he does. I see him glancing over, just for a second before he hastily turns his head back to the road. I graze along my pale skin until I reach the skirt, gently lifting it, exposing my sheer white panties. Yes, now he can definitely see them.

  I continue grazing my exposed skin, wandering up and down along my inner thigh, dangerously close to my center. I can feel his eyes on me, flying back and forth between my lap and the road ahead of us. His breathing changes, louder, faster. I am driving him mad with lust, I can feel it. His reaction drives me nuts, too. Already, I can feel my panties sticking to my center.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” He breathes without looking at me. “Cover yourself.”

  I lean back in my seat and slowly roll my face over to him while my right hand is still on my thigh.

  “Why?” I ask. “That didn’t sound very convincing, daddy.”

  It didn’t. And I know he doesn’t want me to stop. The swelling between his legs tells a different story. His cock must be of considerable size, judging by the bulge it has created between my stepdaddy’s legs.

  I must touch it.

&nbsp ; I slowly reach over with my left hand and place it in his lap, caressing his upper leg, moving closer to his center.

  “Brittany!” He exclaims. “What are you doing? Stop it!”

  But he doesn’t stop me. He keeps both his hands on the steering wheel, staring at the street.

  “But, daddy”, I breathe. “What do you mean? It’s you who’s sending me the wrong signal.”

  As I say it, I can feel his hard member beneath my hands. I gently start stroking it above the thick fabric. He moans.

  “Damn it, Brittany!”

  I can feel him grow harder as I continue rubbing him. And I know I can’t stop now. Not for his sake, not for mine.

  But I won’t have him protesting when I am trying to do something good.

  I stop the stroking, but grab his hard cock as good as I can with the jeans still between us.

  “Well okay, daddy”, I whisper. “I you don’t want to join, that’s fine. But at least let me have a little fun.”

  He doesn’t understand and glances over to me, just in time see my right hand wander up beneath my legs, reaching my own center and now softly rubbing the sheer white fabric of my panties. I arch my back, so my nipples stick out hard beneath the thin fabric of my crop top. My arousal is obvious and he can tell. He can tell that I am not wearing a bra and that my hard nipples are showing through the shirt, desperate for his touch.

  He gulps, but doesn’t say a word, keeping one eye on me and one eye on the road as I start pleasuring myself while still holding his cock with my other hand. I catch his eyes as my fingers slip beneath my panties, now rubbing my wet clit.

  “Oh, daddy”, I whisper. “If you could just feel how wet I am. Your hard cock got me too excited.”

  He takes a deep breath and stares back on the street.

  “Brittany”, he gasps. “This is exactly what I was talking about, you-“

  “Do you want me to stop?” I interrupt him. “Or would you allow me to do it right, daddy?”

  He looks at me. I can see his inner fight, even with the sunglasses on. He is dying for me to get to his cock, to do it right. Jerk him off the proper way.