50 Sexcapades [Erotica Compilation] novel Chapter 17

"Like this...teacher?"

"Perfect Desiree"

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It was my first day at Renaissance Art Workshop. I was an art history major at the university downtown and wanted to learn more after having taken a brilliant course on some of the most famous Renaissance artists: Michelangelo, Raphael, Donatello, Masaccio...

A friend told me about this workshop. It was held in the lower concourse of The Peninsula, every Friday evening. There were about 8 of us, people of different backgrounds and levels of expertise. The workshop was like my little escape for the week. We worked and learned together as a unit, and developed a deep bond over our passions and artistry.

The piece of the puzzle that brought it all to life came in the form of a tall, curly-haired, sun kissed Italian man...Emilio

He was bred in Florence, refined in Berlin, and perfected in Barcelona. He was brilliant, sharp, honest, and devilishly handsome. Mastery emanated from his dark eyes, always half-covered by chocolate brown curls. His features were as sculpted, rigid, and relentless as his persona, but I had found my way to his soul.

He registered my novice level of skills and chastised me often in the beginning, critiquing nearly everything I did. In response I worked twice as hard, stayed longer than anyone else after class, and kept my head down, seeking neither approval nor praise.

He took note of my effort and acknowledged my approval and my knowledge. He would often stay later when I did, and the two of us would work side by side in the silence of the large, marble room. He, perfecting a piece for the Vatican hall and I, working on colors and blending and depth slowly but surely making it my craft.

Time progressed and we began to converse, going for long walks after the workshop, discussing our lives and reclusive thoughts. He introduced me to other forms of art, in the form of expensive wine, and delicious food, theatre, and music. I became a part of his world and he of mine. Together, we were a force.

When I think of love, I can only imagine Emilio. I remember amazing times we shared, like identifying the different hues of blue on the walls of the endless small homes in Greece, blind tasting vintage wines in Capri, and inhaling a multitude of rich aromas from a tiny shisha bar in Morocco.

Life with Emilio was a never-ending lesson. Being 20 years older than me, Emilio had a limitless extent of knowledge to bequeath to me. He opened my eyes to a fruitful existence of passion and joy.

"Then give it to me" I breathed, unable to suppress my longing for him. I moved against his body, sighing in pleasure when he wrapped my legs around his waist and pushed his hard body against me. His delicious, rich aroma made me feverish and I tangled my hands in his dark curls, lying still as he unbuckled his pants and pushed them down around his ankles.

Emilio was my teacher in many, many aspects and forms. Sex and pleasure importantly were ones we mastered together. He introduced me to pleasure every time we made love, whether it was loving and gentle or brutish and rough. I discovered things about my body I had never realized and felt sexual pleasure in a new and exciting way over and over again.

He never asked me how I wanted it, when, or where because he could read my body and my needs like a finely tuned instrument. He gave it to me the way he felt I needed it, and he got it right every single time.

I felt his large, curved cock sink into me completely, and moaned loudly with pleasure. Emilio pressed his lips forcefully against mine and our tongues battled as our bodies adjusted and moved together in perfect harmony. I felt every inch of him spreading me open and cried out as I began to fall apart at his touch.

He let me moan and scream and rake at his back, silently pounding me and keeping my pussy filled and fucked. He let my pleasure dominate as I used his body for satiation and orgasmic climax, never attempting to dominate me for one of his many sexual agendas or fetishes. He knew I just needed to be fucked and allowed to release without games, kinks, or any other illicit pleasures we often indulged in together. That, I could guarantee would come later.

"Emilio" I sighed, stiffening in his arms as I came around him, gradually melting in his embrace.

"My Desiree" I heard him whisper before I fell asleep in his arms.