Speaker 1: Hi, it's Devlin. I want to take a moment before
today's story to share something extremely important. Please don't skip
this notice. It's just too important to ignore. As you
may already know, recently, several adult podcasts just like Central
Awakenings have been suddenly removed from major platforms. These weren't
taken down by the creators. They were taken down by
the platforms themselves, removing the podcast without notice. We have
seen this before, when YouTube remove my video channel, when
SoundCloud removed my channel, there was no notice, no warning.
They were just closed down overnight, leaving thousands of listeners frustrated.
It is part of an ongoing assault by the powers
that be to censor anything they deem unsuitable for you
to enjoy. So to make sure you never missed an episode,
the only way I can guarantee you'll always have access
to your favorite stories is by downloading the Central Awakenings app.
It's safe, private, nonsensored, and completely commercial free, just the
way stories for consenting grown ups are meant to be.
It doesn't matter if you are on an Android or
an Apple phone. You can just go ahead and follow
the link in this episode's notes or visit me at
wild in Bed dot com and follow the links there
to download the app. Thank you for listening, and thank
you for staying with me. So for now, just lay
back and enjoy tonight's story. Hi, it's Devlin, and welcome
to another episode of Wild in Bed, your destination for
salacious stories, sensual satisfaction, and finger looking good fantasies. Now
tonight's story is a Yes, it's another listener's fantasy. I
thought my mind was filthy, but Jesus you guys, now
you know if you want to hear your fantasy narrated
right here and listen to all these wonderful people, then
it's so easy for you to just email me at
Devlin at wilddesires dot com and I will do my
best to bring your fantasy to life. You can know
this podcast is best enjoyed laying on your bed. Just
put your earbut in os your eyes and surrender to
the pleasure of my voice moving over and inside you.
And when you're ready to enjoy deep sensuous pleasure, just
go ahead and take a nice deep breath and hold
it for a moment and let it go with a sigh.
For the next thirteen minutes or so, it's just you
and my voice. This is your time, your time to relax,
your time for sensuous satisfaction, your time to experience your
inner passions. As you listen to my voice, I feel
the story caressing your body as you enjoy tonight's show.
The studio lay dark as usual. I was alone here
at this time of night. Music resonated from the speakers.
Apparently it was there to motivate me, to get me
into character. But I didn't need that to motivate me.
Just a thought of all the people that would be
waiting right now to listen to my next story. That
was my motivation. The money, the fame, the fancy cast,
you could keep it all. None of it meant a
thing without their adoration, without their pleasure. They made me,
every single listener, whether they realized it or not, they did.
Their pleasure created the man I have become. But one
made it special, and she definitely knew it. Of course,
what we had well it had to remain secret. We
could know, but for so many reasons, only a few
others could know of us. Standing from my seat, the
familiar irritation of the anticipation of a performance, of being
ready but having no audience washes over me. It doesn't
matter how much I will the sweep arm of the
studio clock to move faster. It just doesn't. It damn
well doesn't even tick. That at least would be something
it would mark time passing. Instead, the arm just moves
in a silent, graceful arc, minutes fading one by one
under the relentless sweep of the clock arm. In just
a few moments, my silent audience would be with me again,
hundreds of thousands of muteers, expecting entertainment, expecting pleasure, expecting
to be taken somewhere else. Of course, they would all
lose themselves in the moment. They would all indulge their
fantasies over the next thirty minutes or so. Already I
was aware that many imagine what it might be like
to be in the studio, to immerse ourselves in the
carnal knowledge of our bodies, while the audience listened on,
unaware of the salacious intimacy that was happening just a
microphone away. My impatience growing, my normal release her had
been out of reach today, apparently too busy always left
me agitated when we didn't have time to share our
darkest pleasures before a show. Tapping on the recording booth window.
Of course, no one would respond. No one was in there.
It was empty and deathly silent. With no one else here,
I would have to start the audio running on the
console out here and then enter the booth before I
went live. I rarely considered, yet very practical custom of
the recording artist is to minimize their clothing. Most of
the sound treatments in the booth were material, and with
the clothing I wore, there would be the constant brushing
sound as the materials caressed each other during my performance. So,
as with many voice artists, the easy solution to minimizing
your clothing noise was to minimize your clothing. I thought that,
no doubt intensified the remote fantasies of so many listeners.
With only a few minutes left, I took a small
swig of water and removed as many items of clothing
as possible. The temperature in the room dropped as I
switched the heating off, avoiding any noise created by that.
Taking my accustomed place, just stood before my old microphone,
the air in the booth so dry and humorless. My
eyes closed as I moistened my lips with my tongue,
losing myself in those last precious moments of the solitude
of the recording booth. In a few moments, I would
press the button that would open up the world to
me once again. The avalanche of their collective desires would
cascade through my microphone and inspire another night of pleasure.
The rhythm of my mind echoed loudly as I let
it wander in the shadows outside the booth. There was
a movement, I'm sure of it. Cursing myself for switching
the lights off. I could barely make the movement out
let alone. Who it was?
Speaker 2: The soul glimmer from the recording console showed there was
someone out there, someone on the swivel chair, watching me.
With only moments before I was due to go live,
an impossible choice presented itself. Do I continue and let
them watch me, taking them to task after tonight's show,
or stop the show to deal with this first. As
curious as unnerved as I might be, I was still
a consummate professional at heart, and as they said, the
show must go on. The green light flashed before me,
marking my last moments before the world would hear me
marking my last moments, or the world would hear me
and this unknown stranger tango before them, unannounced, unseen. A
dim lamp flickered to life outside the recording booth as
the light in front of me faded. The world was
now listening, and whatever sound I made would be heard
by millions. Focusing my attention on the microphone just inches
from my lips gloom that surrounded the desk outside, I
could see the barely lit edge of a leg. Out
of the corner of my eyes, I noticed the cuffs
sliding up and down the other leg. Something so deliberate
and sensual about that movement captivated my lust. As try
as I might to focus on the words that should
be coming out of my mouth, that image of those
sensuous curves of the calves just fired something in my body.
An ache was already beginning to grow inside my pants,
A very definite, intense ache that throbbed would need an
unreleased passion that called to every carnal need in my body. Fuck,
there was something about this, something that burned through me.
I was so used to being in control, in charge,
but this seduction, on the very edge of awareness was
something else. It seduced my imagination, my mind, my body.
The legs moved into the shadows once more. The light
flickered again over those gentle curves. The light reflected wasn't
that of naked skin, but the hint of lingerie, a
stocking leg. As my thoughts accelerated, solely occupied with that leg,
that lingerie. Damn, I could hear the gentle caress of silk,
of the legs kissing each other as they slid up
and down, The subtle, seductive sound of silk on silk,
so quiet, so gentle. Yet every sound filled my mind,
shutting out anything else. As my mind watched the show
unfold outside the booth, my lips seemed to falter on
the words, trying desperately to escape my mouth, trying to
wrestle control of the moment back from impending lust. A
single lone finger traced up the inside of those thighs,
gently caressing the lace of the stocking tops. There was
a moan, I'm sure of it. Even within the noiseless
confines of the booth, I could hear it. More importantly,
my cock felt it as clearly as if it was
vibrating along every edge of my erect muscle. Fuck. I
was throbbing in my pants, barely controlled moans of desire
throbbed along my tongue. This was ridiculous. Somewhere in the gloom,
a lonesome finger, that sole digit, moved her panties to
one side and teased at her folds. Knowing how white
she was and how turned on that made me, she
didn't expose her pussy. She just knew my mind could
feel every sensation as she teased her fingertip over her lips.
She knew my cock twitched with every damn movement, as
if her fingertip was lazily caressing around the tip of
my cock, as if she was taking me right to
the point of aching frustration. And then, somewhere under the
beautiful veil of her panties, she stroked over her clip.
Her body trembled with desire, moaning gently, her fingers explored deeper.
I could only see the movement of her fingers under
her panties. I could only watch with baited desire as
the movement of her knuck underneath that lace drew so
much sexual tension from within me. Somewhere in the darkness,
there was another moan feminine and passionate. There spoke of
desires unsatisfied, of a woman with deep needs, A moan
that spoke to every lustful thought I have ever had. God,
it spoke directly to my cock, making me tense, And then,
for some reason, my pelvis thrust it gently into the air.
For facts they come meant to be working. I closed
my eyes, trying desperately to regain some control. I take
another drink of water. I start to speak again when
I felt something, someone, some sort of presence entered the room.
But that's impossible. The door is locked from the inside.
I didn't hear it, I just felt it, or maybe
it was always there. I momentarily glanced at the stall
outside the booth. It was the light now dimmed. I
continued on with the narration and felt a featherlight touch
across my shoulder blades. Or did I? It was so light,
so delicate, so feminine. There it was again, across the
opposite way. There was no denying it any longer. The
presence was real, or at least felt right here in
the moment. If no, she she was really here. Her fragrance,
both natural, feminine and perfume, filled the recording booth. The
sound of a breath so gentle, perhaps a gasp of
a woman caressed in just the perfect way, echoed around
the small space. What was she doing here? She usually
worked late, lost in her projects, with no idea what
time or day it was. Her ambition matched mine, something
I did not ever think possible. For her to be
here right now at this moment would mean she had
planned to be here. Her touch stopped momentarily. I looked
up from my script to see if she moved, but
there was nothing, nothing there. I continued on with the story,
focusing on my notes. As her touch returned and long
now started the very slow trace up and down my back,
so lightly gently, her fingers lingered over my muscles. Eventually,
her nails traced up and down with more force this time,
and delved into my shoulders, grabbing them, rubbing them, massaging
away the tension. She hit all those tense spots that
I kept hidden away. She always knew what I needed. Somewhere.
We were in tune, on another plane, another energetic level.
I continued reading, my voice growing even more sensual as
she rubbed at my muscles. As she rubbed at my aches.
This experience I needed every week. It was so indulging
to pleasure my listeners. As I was being pleasured, she
reached both of her arms down, dipping her hands down
my chest, her breasts resting on the back of my head.
Her nails started to bite into my flesh, ever so lightly.
Reaching down my chest again, she found my nipples, circling them,
dragging her nails gently toward them, without pinching, just so
gentle poetry dripped from her fingertips. It was a treat
to have her be so tender, up and back to
my shoulders, up and over them. She dragged her nails
harder than my back, making me arch my spine and
groan the words out into the mike. Up my back again,
gentler this time, and down my chest. Her hands were
spread out on my chest, hot breath on my neck.
She did not say a word as she gently nipped
at my earlobe, her lips giving me featherlike kisses along
the side of my neck, her breast pressing into my
back as she continued to spread delicate kisses up and
down my spine so slowly. She was melting me with
this delicate affection, and all I could do was focus
on the words I was trying to read, trying to
think of my fans, eagerly listening to every word. She
knew this was important to me, but I did not
want her to stop continuing. She gently kissed my neck
up and down one side and over to the other,
her hair teasing at my shoulder, completely submers me, stealing
any sanity I had left. Her. Beautiful, irresistible, feminine fragrance
was in the air. I knew she wanted me as
I did her. My rerection grew as she scraped her
teeth over my shoulder, gently biting into my flesh. She
was taking her time to seduce me. As she kept
biting on the top of my shoulder, out towards my neck,
up one side, and over to the other, her kisses
grew hungrier, more lustful, just for me. She licked, kissed,
and bit my neck and shoulders. She dragged her nails
up and down my chest. A shudder round through me
again as she pinched my nipples and bit hard into
my neck. At the same time, I continued to feel
my erection growing harder and harder, focusing on the script,
becoming torturous, trying hard not to cut tonight's episode short
and take a row then and there, punishing her for
being so naughty in the sounding booth. The idea of
tying her up, spanking her, making a scream at me
for driving her toward the edge of an orgasm, and
then denying her pleasure had me stumbling over my words.
She would pay for this later, but she knew that
that is what she wanted, what she always wanted, a
man who had enough self control to be in control
of her pleasure, just like she was in control of mine.
Right now, as I helplessly tried to keep my cool,
she suddenly stopped. I could not look around. I had
to keep reading. But I had a moment to breathe,
a second to regain my sanity before she completely pushed
me over the edge and made a mess of this
episode for the night. She knew it too, She knew
that I was at my limit. Then I felt it
felt her again. This time she was not behind me,
but in front of me, on her knees. Oh god,
I was in a delicious amount of trouble. Now. She
began by running her fingertips, ever so gently, so delicate
up my legs from my ankles, at my shins, along
my knees and half way up my thighs. Was she
really going to do that right here, right now, with
thousands of people listening. She did not stop. She was
such a bad girl. I reveled in it in her,
in this experience. Her beautiful fingers traced patterns up and
down my thighs, teasing me over and over again until
I could barely stand it anymore. I reached down and
grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling it tightly. She
got the message and started rubbing my cop through the
fabric of my pants. I took her breath as she
unbuckled my pants. I raised myself up and let her
push them to the floor. I could have stopped her,
but I didn't want to. I reached down again. With
one hand, held her chin and stroked her lips. Taking
my thumb into her mouth. She gently bit on the
end of it, swirling her tongue around it and sucking
it entirely into her mouth. My listeners would love to
hear this story. A podcast about sex while the narrator,
while the narrator was getting pleasured would be such a
good story. She knew that too, She just knew how
to stir it up, releasing my thumb and pushing my
hand onto my hip. She changed focus to my beautiful,
thick cock. It was free and fervently waiting. I began
to revel and with it under her delicate touch as
she gently moved one fingertip as one fingertip traced up
and down my entire length, over and over again, until
I wanted to slam my cock into her beautiful mouth,
but I couldn't. My hands were gripping the sides of
the desk. Suddenly wrapping her hand around my gerth, she
began kissing and licking the very tip of me. My
cock throbbed and pre come dripped out as she continued
to lick, just as sensitive opening over and over again,
and endless conflict continued within me. She was taking the
control I usually had and leaving me helpless at her mercy.
Her lips came up and around me, taking the whole
tip of my cock in her mouth as she sunk
the most sensitive part of me, driving me absolutely wild.
I felt as though I could no longer breathe as
she continued her everlasting assault on the tip of my cock.
Just when I thought I could not say another word,
and my vision went blurry. She stopped again, letting me
regain something of my composure. As I was able to
breathe again and refocus on those words on the script.
For an instant I thought I was safe, but she
had other plans for me. The biting pain that can
only be brought on by something frozen stunned me and
made me choke my words. She had just touched the
tip of my cock with it just long enough to
make me completely stumble. As the cold was replaced with
her mouth feverishly sucking on my tip again. I reached
down and groubd for the fistful of her hair, trying
to gain some sort of reality. Again, I felt her
grin around the tip of my cock and let it
bounce out of her mouth. The shield sensation was back again,
this time tracing designs ever so slowly up and down
and all around my cock. I gripped her hair tighter,
pulling it itt, but it did nothing to stop or
slow her down. Whatever the frigid thing was that she
was tortuously dragging all over my cock was melting and
dripping down my length and onto my balls. The cool
run off got hotter as it slid intently down my cock.
The tenacious ache replaced with her hot, eager tongue as
it clicked at me hungrily, up and down, swirling around me.
She had not even put me in her mouth, and
I was ready to come. Surprising me again, she sucked
my whole cock straight into her mouth, swallowing me whole. God.
Now I really couldn't see the words on my script
as she kept sucking at me, swallowing me, choking on me.
As she took me in and out of her mouth.
She moved her hands up and untwined my hand out
of her hair so she could move more freely over
and around me. Her tongue swirled over the tip of me.
As my hand reached down to her neck, I pressed
gently as she took me back deeply into her mouth.
She choked to my cock as I pressed on her throat.
When I felt her tears ripping down her cheeks and
onto my hands, I released her neck. She took me
again out of her throat and sucked at the tiff
and me again, throwing me off balance again with a
fresh sensation of tingles. As her teeth began biting down
on the side of my cock. I was completely losing
any sort of comprehension the whole environment, the energy of
my sound, both the story I was reading, the smell
of her filling my head. I was not going to
last very much longer. It did not end there. She
was licking and sucking and biting down the side of
my cock. She gripped the base of it tightly with
her hand and moved up and down with gentle bites,
sucking at the side of it, licking her way around
my girth. One hand began stroking me with feather like
caresses up and down my shaft while she dropped down further, gingerly,
licking at my balls. The liquid from the earlier onslaught
still dripped down them as she licked at the pattern
of the run off. Her light caresses turned firmer as
she stroked me with more force, her other hand cupping
at my balls, her tongue exploring them, sucking each one gently,
biting and nibbling as if it were deliciously juicy ripe fruit.
I needed to finish this episode. I could not keep
this up. I was going to come right into the
microphone for all my listeners to hear. I was helplessly
trying to read and make a coherent sense of what
these squiggles on the page said, Totally lost in the moment,
lost in the pleasure she relentlessly was prolonging for me.
The story was coming to a close, and the characters
were so close to coming, as was I wandering desperately
to kiss her, to feel her, to take her to
as much ecstasy as she was taking me to, taking
me to another dimension. I was on fire with need,
a deep hunger raged inside me. Her touch was electric
as she ran her hand up and down my length,
shifting again as she raised herself up, and I reached
down to entwine my hand in her hair, kneading connection,
stroking at her, pulling at her, desperate for release. Her
lips kissed my tip delicately, over and over again as
she brought another level of intimacy into our interaction, the
passion never fading as she loved me into oblivion. When
her lips opened and took me inside her again, I
fell in entirely. She saked my orgasm out of me.
Stars exploded behind my eyes like a soup and over,
expanding and contrasting under her spell. Undeniable passion rrupts out
of me and into her restuy, engulfing my pleasure. She
absorbs me and overworks my swollen length until it was exhausted,
as if it had never been one. It was an
interplanetary experience. Timestones crossed and blended, time mashed into a
jumbled mess of nerves. As I growled out my orgasm
into her mouth, my knuckles were white on the desk
as I gripped it harder. God, I was going to
break it in half like some sort of ravenous caveman.
I took a deep breath and tried to figure out
what to say to my audience. My head slowly cleared
as I regained composure and said the final parting notes
and goodbye until next week to all my listeners. As
I ented the podcast, another episode finished for the week.
I looked around the recording booth. It was empty. The
room was empty, The studio outside was empty except for
the remnants of a single chocolate covered strawberry with a
bite taking out of it. But she was nowhere to
be seen. Maybe I had dreamt it. Maybe she has
never been here, the ghost of a woman that longs
for But a fragrance lingered in the air, and as
I looked down at myself, I saw the remains of
smudged lipstick on my shaft. So I hope you enjoyed
their little fantasy, very close to having that one where
where they get these ideas from. So next week we
have another story. I look forward to next week when
I can get you back into bed again and we
can get wild all over again. So until then, and
always with your pleasure in mind, this is Devil in
Wild wishing you salacious dreams. As you have enjoyed tonight's story,
Take one moment right now and download the Central Awakenings
app to ensure your ongoing pleasure free from the risk
of censorship by the Puritan view. You can find the link.
It's in this show's notes or by visiting wildin Bed
dot com.
Speaker 3: Acted acted boom b