Whenever I tell someone about my fetish, they ask me to explain it.
I mean- I don’t understand it, either. I think I was just born this way.
But, when I’m alone with my own thoughts, it just makes sense. There’s so much to the heart that makes it meaningful to me. As a hopeless romantic, I long for the vulnerability and rawness of another heartbeat.
There’s something so tenacious, yet fragile about the heart. It never stops beating, but it’s safe inside of its cage. It beats harder and faster, but it’s still hidden away from anyone who could notice. Excitement, anxiety, anticipation, fear, arousal… It’s all hidden.
Letting someone feel your heartbeat is so intimate and personal. The heart is probably the most important part of the body, other than the brain. So, of course it would feel nerve wracking to let someone touch it, or listen to it.
What sets the heart apart from the brain is the tangibility of the heart. It can be seen, felt, and heard. To me, the action of listening to a heartbeat is the closest thing someone can get to mind reading. Every thought is translated by a heart that is fast, or slow. Soft, or hard.
Maybe our hearts want to hide for their own safety. They’re just so vulnerable.
Someone can lie, but their heart cannot. The heart can only react. Feeding off of that vulnerability and humiliation by listening to it… Teasing it…
That’s why it excites me so much… 🫀✨💕
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