The mic stands between us, a silent witness to the hunger in your eyes. You’ve been teasing me all day, whispering about how much better a tomboy girlfriend could fuck me than my ex. I scoffed, but deep down, the thought sparked something… a need to prove you wrong, or maybe, a secret desire to be proven right.
I lean closer, the natural tits straining against my sports bra. “You think you can handle this, pretty boy?” I murmur, my voice a low growl. Your eyes widen. I love seeing that flicker of fear, mixed with anticipation. The ASMR begins – the soft rustle of my clothes, the gentle tap of my fingernails on the mic. But tonight, it's different. It's rougher, more demanding.
I grab your hand, pulling you closer. My grip is firm, possessive. "Tonight," I whisper, “I’m in charge.” I push you onto the bed, straddling your hips. My jeans are tight, showcasing the slight curve of my hips. I see you swallow hard.
The ass spanking starts softly, then escalates. Each slap echoes through the room, amplified by the mic. You moan, arching your back. My hand moves lower, teasing your dripping wet pussy. You gasp, begging for more. I grant your wish, sliding two fingers inside. The rhythm is slow, deliberate, building the tension until it’s almost unbearable.
I want to feel you deep inside, to fill you completely with my seed. The thought of breeding you, marking you as mine, sends a shiver down my spine. I slide off, positioning you on all fours. Doggy style is my favorite – the perfect angle to watch your pleasure. I slide inside, rough and fast. You scream into the pillow. The ASMR mic picks up every sound – your moans, my grunts, the wet slap of skin against skin.
I pull out, flipping you over. I want to see your face as I finish you. I’m bent over, and I grab your hips, thrusting hard and deep, pushing you closer to the edge. Finally, I explode inside you, filling you with my breeding creampie. We both collapse, breathless and exhausted. "So," I whisper, my voice raspy, "was I better than your ex?"
