A Taste for Brandi

by Cristiano Caffieri

My grandson is an up and coming TV star called Charlie Woodrow. He’s won several awards for his acting and is frequently splashed across the front pages of the tabloids. In spite of this, he does his best to keep a low profile.

Not one to show off by buying big mansion he lives with me and his mother in the old family house near Santa Rosa. I moved in with them some ten years ago when my wife passed away.

Even though I’m in my eighties the two of us get along really well. I’ve spent time with him on the set in Hollywood and when a series of his won an award and he was invited to join the cast on a billionaire’s yacht for a Pacific cruise, he asked me to go along.

“All that fresh air will do you good,” he said, thinking that I don’t get out enough.”

I took a little persuading but after some encouragement from my daughter, I decided to accept the invitation. It was a ten-day cruise and although the young folk were naturally living it up to the hilt I found a quiet corner where I could hide away and read a book.

Five days out into the Pacific an all-night party was in progress with music so loud it would have wakened the dead. Not being able to sleep I wandered onto the deck to take in some of that fresh air that Charlie thought I needed. Of course, there is always a downside to these things and for me, it was the fact that I decided to lean back on the rail. Unfortunately, it was the part that opened like a gate to allow passengers to climb down to the longboat.

It wasn’t secure correctly and it came open. Within seconds I was floundering around in the water like performing seal. A young starlet named Brandi, who was also tired of all the loud music, just happened to have ventured out on the deck at the same time. Seeing me fly off the rail she called out for help, but with all the noise nobody heard her so she sprang into action and threw me a lifebuoy. Unfortunately, in an effort to throw it as close to me as possible, she lost her footing and also landed in the water.

We both swam towards the buoy as the ship moved further and further away. The party-goers were obviously oblivious to our situation and probably continued to be so until the next morning.

When the sun came up there was no sign of the boat but there was a small island in the distance. Brandi and I, who had now formally introduced ourselves, decide to propel the buoy towards the blob of land in the hope that flocks of planes would soon be searching for us. That didn’t happen, at least in the area we were.

It took about an hour to reach the small island that turned out to be uninhabited. We were quite exhausted when we flung ourselves onto the beach. After a while, we sat up and looked out across the endless sea and shook our heads in unison. It seemed as though we were in a tight spot.

Fortunately, I had two things in my favor, one my glasses hadn’t fallen off and two, as a young man I’d spent a few years in the army, including a couple of them in American Samoa. Consequently, I had a few survival skills under my belt.

There were coconuts on the island that were nice and green but I was a bit reluctant to climb up a tree at my age. In the end, with a stick in hand, Brandi stood on my shoulders and managed to wack a couple of them down. I took a piece of sharp rock to puncture the top and we both sat back and enjoyed the sweet coconut water.

I was breathing a bit hard, not because of the lifting but because I could see right up her mini-skirt as I hoisted her up. And things got better. Feeling safe with such an old man she suggested we should take off their clothes and hang them out to dry. I didn’t argue and soon the petit Brandi was naked showing off her perky pointed tits and shaved muff. Although my slippers were probably floating off the coast of Chile I still had my robe and pajamas. When I slipped out of those I think she was a bit surprised that I was in such good shape. As I was developing a semi I quickly covered it up with my hands and prayed for it to go down.

We chose a little spot under some palms and hung up our clothes to dry then I showed off my survival skills by lighting a small fire. I just used my glasses, the sun, and dry kindling but soon it was crackling away like a goodfella. Once it was glowing I took a stick, did my best sharpen the end with a stone and then I hardened the point in the fire.

Spear in hand I waded into the sea and waited patiently for a big fat fish to pass around my feet. After many misses and some well-chosen swear words I managed to land a very acceptable fish lunch.

As we sat there naked and spitting out the bones I saw a container ship way, way out on the horizon.

“Looks like we’re on a shipping route,” I said, “We should start gathering up some materials to build a big signal fire.”

“I think we should wait a few days – it will be better for my career.”

“Your career?” I blurted out, unable to believe my ears. What she was saying in effect was, she’d prefer to live on coconuts and fish for an indeterminate period of time rather than speed up her return to Hollywood.

“Yes – the tabloids will eat it up, I can see it now” she mused,“ Young Starlet Marooned on Desert Island.”

“But I don’t want to take the chance of being stuck on this godforsaken place for a year or more.”

“Well, you said it was on a shipping route.”

“But I was only guessing – I only saw one lousy ship,” I retorted, “I want to get back home I’m too old for this sort of thing.”

“Come on – you’re in your prime,” she replied, wiggling her tits and giving me a cheese-cake smile, “surely you don’t mind staying here for a week or two, after all, you’re in the company of a beautiful young woman.”

She lay back on the sand with her nipples pointing skyward, “You do think I’m beautiful don’t you?”

I cleared his throat and covered my dick with my hands.

“Of course you’re beautiful – but if we stay here for any length of time the publicity I’ll get won’t be very flattering.”

She laughed, and sat up once again, “Surely you don’t think they’ll think that a man your age would be fucking me.”

“Well they might,” I said, removing my hands to reveal an enormous boner.
Brandi gasped, and then turned her head away, “Perhaps you should build that signal fire,” she said hoarsely.

I chucked to myself as I walked over to where our clothes were drying. I slipped on my pants and then tossed her stuff to her.

After spending an hour or so collecting dead branches and kindling I built a substantial bonfire. When I got back to where Brandi lay under the trees she’d fallen asleep. I knew that it was going to get cooler as the sun began to fade and so without waking I covered her up with my robe. I slept beside her until first light and then got up as she continued to sleep.

She woke up with a start when I started to bash some Pandanus fruit between two rocks. I knew from my experience serving in the Pacific that they were edible but was we had no cooking pot the best we could do was suck the juice out of them.

To see her pretty mouth sucking one of those cones gave me another hard-on and she could see it bulging in my pants.

“I thought I was going to be safe with an old guy like you but now I’m not so sure,” she said, with a slightly worried look on her face.

I insisted that I was a gentleman but that didn’t seem to reassure her.

“I suppose it’s because I’m so attractive,” she said, “I shouldn’t blame you.”

Naturally, I wanted to fuck her but I wasn’t prepared to make a move on her, she was young enough to be my daughter, possibly granddaughter.

“The oldest man I ever fucked was fifty,” she said, “He got me my first movie role.”

“I’m sorry,” I smiled, “all I can offer is a fish lunch, possibly shellfish and some toasted coconut.”

She laughed, “I should think myself lucky to have someone who can cook up a meal without access to a supermarket or cooking utensils.”

“When I’ve had the chance to explore the island I’ll probably be able to find a lot more editable nuts and fruits and I’ll construct a Maori oven then we’ll be able to have a real Luau.”

That evening we had baked bananas and fish, washed down with coconut water and several varieties of fresh fruit for dessert. Afterwards, we sat by the fire and watched the moon rise. I suggested we sleep by the fire as the temperature would probably drop as there was very little cloud.

“Did you spike the food at all?” she asked, after a while.

“Why would you ask such a question?”

“It’s just that I feel so horny.”

I was a bit shocked by the revelation but even more so when she got up and yelled, “If you can catch me you can fuck me.”

She took off across the sand with me in pursuit. I’m positive she slowed down when it looked like as if I was losing ground and when she was only a few paces away I dropped down in a football tackle and hung onto her. She turned over quickly and I immediately thrust my hands under her top and grabbed onto her tits.

“Suck them for me Jonathon, I love to have them sucked.”

I didn’t want to disappoint her and so I rolled up her top revealing those young firm tits and flicked my tongue across one nipple and then the other as she arched her back and groaned. She seemed to like it best when I took as much of them in my mouth as I could and sucked hard.

While I was sucking one I would gently massage the other but then I dropped my right hand down and placed it between her warm thighs. She gasped as I slowly worked my way up to her panties, moved that narrow strip to one side and slid my finger up and down her wet crack.

“Jonathon,” she whispered that feels so good.”

I continued to work up and down her velvety groove with my finger poking it up inside her. She responded by grabbing my balls through my thin pyjama bottoms and that prompted me to move down and place my face between her legs. I gradually rolled up her skirt, pulled her panties to one side and licked up and down her lips as she started to writhe and groan as if she couldn’t wait to cum. When she did she cried out “fuck” at the top of her lungs and grabbed on to my hair and pulled it hard.

Her body was still vibrating when I struggled out of my pyjamas and rammed my throbbing dick into her tight crack. When I say tight I mean real tight and it seemed to suck me as if it was in her mouth.

I was so desperate to blow my load I started to plunge it into her cunt at a mile a minute. She kept shouting, “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me – fuck me hard Jonathon.”

When I shot my hot sperm deep into her love canal it just kept cumming and cumming and she grabbed on to the cheeks of my ass as if she didn’t want it to stop.

Fearing that I would be exhausted the next day as I had lots of work to do, I didn’t go for seconds but we did sleep in each other’s arms. As her warm tits crushed against my chest I couldn’t help thinking what my grandson Charlie would say if he could see me.

The next day I decided to build a hut by weaving palm leaves together like a huge basket. Brandi helped and also tended to Maori oven so that we could have a great lunch. As she sucked her banana suggestively my dick looked like a tent pole in my pyjama pants.

“You can’t work with a boner like that,” she smiled and she proceeded to take it out for me and after pulling my foreskin right back she plunged it into her mouth. For the next ten minutes or so, she licked and sucked my dick fondling my balls at the same time. When I felt my load working its way up I yelled, “I’m cumming,” and she sucked harder and took the load in her mouth.

Within a few days, I constructed a half-decent shelter for us, fashioned some utensils from seashells and coconuts and enjoyed more sex than I’d ever had in my life. The days ran into weeks, and the weeks into months as every time I saw a ship in the distance she persuaded me not to light the beacon.

“Let’s give it a little longer,” she’d say. “I’m in no hurry to get back.”

After about six months, when Brandi was pretty sure she was pregnant we had no choice but to light the fire and were picked up by a Panamanian tanker. When we eventually flew into LA the airport there was wall to wall reporters. The pregnancy had been confirmed by a doctor in Panama and she had come up with the most outrageous story.

“No we didn’t have sex on the island,” she told the press. “Jonathon was always a perfect gentleman.” She went on to claim that it was an immaculate conception and, even though nobody believed the story it became headlines in every major newspaper in the world.

Being the perfect gentleman I refused to answer questions even though I was offered large sums of money and a book deal. Brandi’s career skyrocketed and I have an open invitation to call at her Bel Air mansion to see my son any time I want. Of course, my dick isn’t as erect as it used to be but while I’m there she always gives me a blow job for old time’s sake. THE END

Copyright 2019 Cristiano Caffieri

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