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Titi's Erotic Notes
Titi's Erotic Notes
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Titi’s Erotic Notes: A Night, An Exhibition And A First Orgasm (18+)

Titilayo Olurin

“It’s interesting, isn’t it?”

“I’m sorry? What?” I turned, surprised.

The owner of the deep, husky voice behind me was tall. He stood at least a good five inches taller than me, and when he smiled, he revealed a set of even white teeth.

“I mean, the painting,” he said, smiling and gesturing at the large painting on the wall.

“That? Oh, yes!” I smiled, too. “Of course, it’s interesting.”

The painting of a naked woman with two babies sucking on each breast had also caught my attention as I walked the aisle of the gallery. I had stopped to stare at it, wondering what was going through the mind of the artist as he – or she - painted the woman sitting on a low stool with a mortar before her and a pestle in her hand, even as she fed her twin babies in her lap.

“Richard,” the man, who was likely in his mid-thirties, introduced himself. He transferred his half glass of wine from the right to the left hand before stretching out his free hand to me.

“Tomike!” I replied, taking his outstretched hand. It was warm, moist, and soft in a way that was also masculine.

“Happy to meet you,” he smiled again, moving dangerously close to me. I caught a whiff of his strong, French masculine cologne and could see his perfectly chiselled jawline. “So … do you know someone here … ?”

“Oh … well, I came with … someone … ” I scanned the gallery with my eyes, almost certain that Anita had hurdled off somewhere with her friends. She had half dragged me to the art exhibition, and yet, she had abandoned me at the first sight of her friends from school.

“Tsk! Tsk! It’s a shame that he left such a pretty damsel all by herself,” my new friend reminded me of his presence.

“He? How do you know it’s a he?” I raised an eyebrow and pursed my lips.

He held out his hands. “I was wrong to assume. So, it’s a she, then?”

“The painting,” I deliberately ignored his question and turned his attention back to the painting. I hated prying questions. Questions, yes. Prying, no. “I love what the artist did with it.”

“You do, huh? So do I.” If he noticed what I did, he pretended not to.

We soon became engrossed in a discussion about the painting and similar ones that we came across. We walked round the gallery two times over without even realizing it, and by that time, we were talking and laughing like old friends. He loved art, just as much as I did, and we had a lot to talk about.

“Come, let me show you something,” he said, as we began a third walk round the gallery. He slid his hand into mine and led me up the steps.

I didn’t argue. I just followed. His hand felt good in mine and I didn’t want him to let go. At the head of the steps, he opened a small door.

“This is my studio. And that’s my exhibition downstairs,” he said, studying my face, waiting for my reaction.

“Oh!” was all I could say, as I stood in the middle of an art studio that seemed rather dark and cozy. “So, that was your painting?”

He nodded before turning to face me, my hand still in his. I only got out the word “Wow!” before I felt his lips on mine. He began sucking on my lower lip, then upper, and back again, nibbling, teasing, then exploring the insides of my mouth.

His hands were now in the small of my back, lingering and caressing. They moved slowly, deliberately to my breasts, cupping both at once, kneading and pinching my nipples through my dress. I gasped, feeling something wet and gooey between my thighs.

“Shouldn’t we stop?” I managed to say, with his lips on mine.

“Why?” His breath was warm and fresh against my lips.

Because I only just met you, I wanted to say. Instead, I let him work his way to the zip of my dress, the hook of my bra and my G-string till I was naked.

Within minutes, we were both naked on the floor, with him lying on top of me and my legs spread apart. Slowly, steadily, he worked his way into my warm, wet p*ssy with his d*ck, going deeper and deeper, until his entire length filled me and disappeared inside my tiny hole.

“FUCK!” I moaned loudly. “Yes!”

“You like it?” he asked, pounding his weight down through his d*ck into my warmth.

“Yes!” I moaned in response.

As if encouraged by my response, he pounded faster and faster, making my big tits jiggle under him. He took one in his hand and mashed it so hard, it hurt. He took the second, pinched its hardened nipple, before covering it with his mouth

I squealed in pleasure, not caring if my voice echoed through the room. My squeal got even higher as Richard pounded deeper, kissing my lips, fondling with my boobs and gripping my hips.

Suddenly, he stopped, turned me around, spread my legs apart and entered me from behind, filling my warmth all over again with his d*ck.

I let out a long, low gasp, as he clutched my hips and continued to thrust into me with total abandon from behind. I pushed back againt him, letting my body match his every thrust, as I felt his c*ck moving strongly inside me.

My legs began to shake and my warmth began to twitch, twitch in a most electrifying way.

I squealed again in delight. “Yes, Richard! Oh, Richard. Yes, I’m almost there!”

“Take it!” he growled, pushing his weight deeper into my belly.

“Yes! I … oooh, yes …. I am … taking …” I whimpered, just as I began to feel spurts of his seed inside my wet p*ssy. I continued to push against him, and he into me, until I began to jerk and shake uncontrollably. It was like nothing I had ever felt before, and I knew that I was having my first orgasm.

Richard grabbed my hips, digging his nails into my flesh, one last time before he released the last spurts of his seed. Then he growled and fell in a heap on top of me with an explosion of breath.