She could hear the tremble in his voice. He was touching himself when he asked if she was being a good girl. Of course, she was, well in her own little twisted way. Her breaths deep and with conviction, she assured the man on the phone that her trip was going well and that she had made good friends. What she didn’t mention was the friend she had made sat next to her with his hand rubbing her soft Nubian skin. Was it the fact that he was a stranger, or the fact that his light hand made such a deep contrast against her dark skin? Either way, it was confession time.

Brian loved how comfortable she was on the phone. She didn’t hide her need from the man, nor from him. She would be a filthy addition to his “family”. He watched and listened as she told of her day and meeting the nice stranger at the bar. How he bought her drinks, took her to dinner, and that’s where she left the story. Brian knew what she was doing. She was feeding him just enough to wonder if she allowed herself to be tainted with the touch of another man. Something he loved. Girls who don’t hid their needs have always been the most attractive to him. Maybe it was just the dirty old man side of himself that mad his cock throb in his pants, or could be her seductive words that lured him to erection.

“That was my father. He knew that I wasn’t alone,” she trembled. “He could tell it from the way my voice quivered. I will tell him about all of this, you know,” she smiled, her perfect white teeth catching her bottom lip in a light squeeze.

“Shhh little one. Close your eyes and let yourself explore as you confess. Feed me,” he whispered.

Her breath held so much behind each pant. She wanted to tell him everything, but hesitation kept her words in a little longer. Adinna was scared of being judged, though she knew that he never would. How could he? His guilt ran much deeper than her own.

Licking her lips, she kept her eyes closed as he asked. She wanted to touch herself, write a novel across her flesh. Allowing her to open the book was all she needed. Resting her hand on her knee, Adinna slowly stroked her flesh. The slightest of movements released a faint scent of the coconut lotion she applied liberally before leaving her room. She had soaked her body into a beautiful sheen, not knowing that it was one of his favorites.

“At first I felt dirty, you know. Letting him see me touch, but Daddy turned the lights low and we never raised our voices above a whisper. It seemed filthier that way,” she whispered. “I’m soaking now, I can feel it between my legs,” she added.

“Focus little one. Just allow your fingers to talk to me right now. I already know your words,” Brian whispered.

Pulling in a deep breath, she held it for a moment before allowing herself to breath again. Stroking her hands softly over her inner thighs, one hand on each side painting a picture in braille. He couldn’t see her, but he could hear the soft moans she held back as the very tips of her nails scraped upwards. She wanted to tell him everything, but body was the perfect way to give her confession to the man. As the hem of her dressed inched up, she could hear him adjust himself in his seat. His body was as heightened as hers. She could hear it without even seeing him.

That scent drove him wild. One of his favorites, he would love to lather his cock the same, but not yet. Anticipation is the only drug he fully indulged in.

“Show me,” he said.

She felt his hand on her own. Moving higher over the front of her silk panties, she showed him through the darkness of the room. Moving her fingers for a moment, Adinna allowed him to feel the dew that dripped from her lily. Her panties saturated in the nectar. With her mind spinning, the sensation of her own hand once again sending shockwaves of impending pleasure through her core. She had done this with one other man, and now him.

“There. See what you’ve done little one,” Brian spoke.

Her flesh felt like spun sugar beneath his fingers. Soft, sweet, and decadent to the touch, and he was sure the taste would prove the same. Not yet though. She hadn’t earned his taste yet. That would come when she fed him a little more from her lips.

Nodding in the dark, Adinna knew he didn’t need to hear her confessions. He could feel them for now. Prickles of lust now blanketing her body, the fire flowed through her veins. She wanted him to know everything even if it meant he would label her a whore.

“I was the one he wanted all along. Not her. For years she was just a substitute for him. He never said it, but I knew it. I felt it when he looked at me and her. His eyes hungry for my flesh as he avoided hers all together. I’m sure that’s why she eventually left. She couldn’t play the game any longer. Not when he accidently called my name with her,” Adinna, giggled almost in a smug manner.

She was sure it was hard for the older woman to compete with someone so soft and young. Flesh that held the wonders of the world beneath it, not already soiled with the filth of others. Being first has a special ring to it. Like it’s an honor or even a privilege to show another how powerful they really are. Her body stretched out, she placed his hand on the front of her soaked panties, smiling wickedly with desire.

“Can you imagine how that will taste, feel, and even, smell? Like the cotton candy at the first carnival of the summer. Something so enticing that you will never lick enough off your lips to rid yourself of me,” she whispered.

More to come.

One

Two

Three

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In the vast landscape of human experience, there exist realms of fascination that often elude conventional understanding. One such phenomenon that has gained considerable attention in recent years is Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response, more commonly known as ASMR. At its core, ASMR involves experiencing tingling sensations in response to specific auditory or visual stimuli, often characterized by gentle whispering. While ASMR itself is not inherently a fetish, its intimate association with whispering has led to the emergence of what some might term an ASMR whispering fetish.

The allure of ASMR whispering lies in its ability to evoke deeply personal and often intense sensory responses in individuals. For those who are drawn to it, the soft, hushed tones of a whispered voice can trigger a cascade of pleasurable sensations, ranging from tingling in the scalp and spine to a profound sense of relaxation and euphoria. It’s a phenomenon that transcends mere auditory stimulation, tapping into the intricate workings of the human mind and body.

To understand the appeal of ASMR whispering as a fetish, one must delve into the complex interplay of psychology, neurobiology, and human sexuality. From a psychological perspective, the whispered word carries with it an aura of intimacy and closeness. It invokes a sense of secrecy, as if the whispered message is meant exclusively for the ears of the listener. This feeling of being singled out, of sharing a private moment with the whisperer, can be incredibly arousing for some individuals.

Moreover, the gentle, rhythmic cadence of whispered speech has a hypnotic quality that can induce a trance-like state in receptive listeners. In this altered state of consciousness, inhibitions are lowered, and the mind becomes more open to suggestion and arousal. It’s akin to being lulled into a state of blissful surrender, where the outside world fades away, and only the whispered voice remains.

From a neurobiological standpoint, ASMR whispering triggers the release of endorphins and oxytocin, often referred to as the “feel-good” hormones. These neurotransmitters are associated with pleasure, bonding, and social connection, further enhancing the sensory experience of ASMR. As a result, individuals who are predisposed to experiencing ASMR may find themselves irresistibly drawn to the soothing whispers of another person, seeking out that intoxicating blend of relaxation and arousal.

Of course, like any fetish or sexual preference, the appeal of ASMR whispering is highly subjective and varies from person to person. For some, it may be the whispered words themselves that hold the greatest allure, imbued with layers of meaning and suggestion. For others, it may be the physical sensations elicited by the whispered sounds, as tingles cascade down the spine like a gentle caress. And for still others, it may be the visual aspect of ASMR, watching the whispered words being spoken up close, perhaps accompanied by subtle gestures and movements.

In recent years, the internet has played a pivotal role in the proliferation of ASMR content, providing a platform for creators to share their whispering talents with a global audience. ASMRtists, as they are often called, craft videos specifically designed to trigger ASMR responses in viewers, employing a wide array of techniques ranging from softly spoken words to delicate hand movements and the gentle rustling of objects.

For individuals who harbor an ASMR whispering fetish, these online communities offer a safe and welcoming space to explore their desires and connect with like-minded individuals. It’s a realm where whispered words reign supreme, where the boundaries between intimacy and arousal blur, and where the gentlest of sounds can ignite the fiercest of passions.

In conclusion, the ASMR whispering fetish represents a fascinating intersection of psychology, neurobiology, and human sexuality. It speaks to the profound power of sound and language to evoke deeply personal and intensely pleasurable responses in individuals. While the whispering voice may seem innocuous to some, for those who are drawn to it, it holds the key to a world of sensory delights and erotic possibilities.

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Her delicate fingers strummed through the velvet-lined wall. She performed the erotic dance for his eyes only. Eyes to eyes, she watched his face as her fingers followed the waves of his mind. Up and down, her manicured nails fought the desire to open the door to the most wondrous place. A gentle knock, tapping on the bell, her entire being shivering with anticipation. Pulling back the silk drapes, she allowed him a view of what awaited inside. The walls soft and dripping with lust. She panted as her finger pushed inside like a voyeur seeking shelter from the cold.

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