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underwear pics get me so horny <3 leaving so much to the imagination gets me so desperate to see even more. Makes me wanna do perverted things to the pretty slut in the underwear
i just want someone to get me drunk and have me strip in front of them to be their entertainment, fondling my boobs and playing with my pussy for them until they pat their lap and have me hump the boner in their pants until i cum on their clothes, embarrassed but i still want more
maybe even being bent over their lap and fingered until i cream around the two fingers stuffed in my needy pussy
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Thinking about tying your wrists to the headboard and edging you until your thighs are trembling and your pussy is so swollen I can see it pulsing. Until you’re straining against the rope every time I pull away and the sound you make when I stop is closer to sobbing than moaning.
Then just… laying my tongue flat across your cunt. Just resting there, wide and warm and still, feeling you throb against me. Tasting you. Taking you all in. My tongue right there, right on you, and giving you nothing other than hot breath on your skin. Just the weight of it. Just heat and wet and the knowledge that I could flick once and you’d come apart completely. But you know I don’t want that.
You’re squirming but there’s nowhere to go. Your wrists are tied and my mouth is right there and it’s almost worse than if I wasn’t touching you at all. At least then there’d be some hope of settling down. But that’s impossible when I’m exactly where you need me and choosing to stay still. You say please into the air above you. I hear it. I don’t move. You say it again. Still nothing.
I’m going to be here for a while. I’m sorry, you just taste too good when you’re desperate.
going to sleep w big bro like we used to do when we were kids. but then i wake up in the middle of the night with his hand between my legs and his lips wrapped around the lobe of my ear.
when i ask what he is doing as his fingers brush against my clit for just a second, then return to pump inside my hole roughly, he simply smirks and says:
“just showing love to my baby sister. you won’t make a sound, will you? that would make your dear brother very angry. then i’d have to hurt you to get what i want. and i dont wanna hurt my precious baby…”
"That's what you said about anal and I couldn't sit right for three days."
"But this is natural. This is how God intended it."
"Don't bring God into this!"
He's on top of you already, which isn't fair, because his weight on you does something to your decision-making that you've never been able to explain to anyone. His hips are between your thighs. He's pressing right there, with just the thin cotton of your panties between his cock and your soaked pussy, and every time he shifts you can feel the whole length of him drag against you. Your resolve can’t take much more.
"I'll pull out," he says. "I swear on my life."
"You swear on your life a whole lot."
"And I'm still here. That has to mean something." He props himself up on one arm, looks you dead in the eyes. Completely serious. "I am discipline personified. You have never met a man with more self-control than me."
"You ate an entire sleeve of Oreos in bed last night."
"It’s different. That was emotional. This is physical. I am a fortress."
You're laughing now, which is a problem because when you laugh your body loosens up and he can feel that. His hips roll against you and the laugh catches in your throat and becomes something else entirely.
"I just want to feel you," he says, and his voice has dropped now, the joking gone out of it. "For real. Not through some filter. Condoms are like trying to see you with my eyes closed. I want to actually know what you feel like when you're wet for me."
Your breath stutters. Goddammit.
"Just the tip," he says.
"Nobody in the history of the world has ever meant just the tip."
"I mean it."
"You don't."
"I do." He reaches between you and pushes your underwear to the side and you feel the head of his cock slide against you, bare, skin on skin, and your hips buck up before you can stop them.
"See?" His voice is strained. "Just this. I'm not even inside you and you're already begging for it."
He's running the tip through your folds, dragging through the wetness there, nudging your clit on every pass. Your fingers are digging into his shoulders and you can feel every ridge of him, every vein, the heat of him so different without the barrier. You understand in this moment exactly what he was talking about because ... Oh, that's what he feels like.
"Say yes," he murmurs against your neck. "Just for a minute. I'll pull out. I promise."
And you are so tired of fighting something you stopped wanting to fight three minutes ago.
"If you don't pull out I'll kill you."
"I swore on my life, babe."
He pushes in.
The sound you make is obscene. It's involuntary, pulled from somewhere deep in your chest, because the feeling of him bare inside you is so different it doesn't even register as the same act. Every inch of him is vivid. You can feel the way your walls stretch to take him, can feel the heat of his skin against yours with nothing between you. He sinks in slow, achingly slow, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath ragged against your lips.
"Fuck," he says. Just that. Like the word fell out of him.
He starts to move. Slow. Careful. Controlled. The fortress, doing his best. Short strokes, shallow, like he's rationing himself. His arms are braced on either side of your head and his jaw is tight and you can see the effort it's costing him to hold back. Something about that, the visible restraint, the way his whole body is taut with the discipline of not giving in, makes you wetter than any of the actual fucking.
"Okay," he breathes. "Okay. This is fine. I've got this. I'm in control."
He is not in control.
You can feel the exact moment it shifts. His hips snap forward, harder than he meant to, and he buries himself all the way. You both groan, and his hands grab your wrists and pin them above your head. His pace changes. No more shallow strokes. No more careful. He's pulling almost all the way out and driving back in deep and your ankles lock behind his back on instinct.
"Fuck. Baby. Fuck." His voice is wrecked. "You feel so good. You feel so fucking good. I can't think."
"You said you'd pull out."
"I know."
"You~nghh~you promised." It’s getting hard to talk as he fucks the words out of you.
"I know. I know I did." He's not slowing down. If anything he's going harder, pinning your wrists tighter, his hips slamming into yours with a force that scoots you up the mattress. "I'm going to. I will. Just not yet. Give me one more minute."
The minute passes. He doesn't pull out. You didn't think he would.
His face is buried in your neck and his grip on your wrists has gone vice-tight. You can feel him thickening inside you, getting harder, that telltale throb that means he's close, and he starts apologizing between thrusts.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, baby, I can't. You feel too good. I tried."
You want to be mad but you can't because he’s so, so deep. So deep that your thoughts dissolve, and every thrust pushes a sound out of you that you can't control. Your legs are shaking. He's everywhere. Inside you, on top of you, his weight pinning you on the bed, his breath hot against your throat.
"I'm gunna cum, baby" he says, and it's not a question anymore. Not a negotiation. "I have to. I'm sorry. Don't kill me."
"You're~ahh~a fucking~~hah~liar."
His hand slides between your bodies and his thumb finds your clit and starts rubbing in fast, tight circles. The combination of that pressure — coupled with the stretch of him bare inside you — is so much that your vision blurs. You can feel it building at the base of your spine like a wave pulling back from the shore.
"Just cum with me, babe" he says. "You know your pussy is too good. You can’t blame me..."
You try to argue but his thumb presses your clit harder, and his cock drives in deeper, and then you break. Your walls clamp down on him as you cum. Then you feel it, the moment he lets go too, the hot rush of him spilling inside you in long, heavy ropes. He groans into your neck and his hips stutter and jerk as he empties himself into you.
…
…
…
Stillness. Both of you panting. Him still inside, receding slowly, the mess of him leaking out around the base of his cock.
He lifts his head. Looks at you. Has the audacity to grin.
"See? That was worth it."
"You are in so much trouble."
"Was it good though?"
You don't answer. Your silence is damning enough.
He kisses your forehead. Stays inside you. Doesn't even have the decency to look sorry about it. You close your eyes. Your body is still buzzing, still clenching around him in lazy aftershocks.
Every single week I’m back in that freezing cold doctor’s office, shivering as he locks the door behind me with a calm click. “Strip. Everything off,” he orders without even looking up from his chart. The room is always ice-cold, my nipples hardening instantly the second the air hits my skin. I fold my clothes neatly on the chair like he expects, then stand there naked and exposed while he circles me slowly.
He starts with my breasts. Rough, gloved hands grope and squeeze them, lifting and pressing, pinching my sensitive nipples until I whimper. “Still too sensitive here,” he mutters clinically, twisting one harder just to watch me squirm. He comments on my weight, my posture, how soft my belly is, slapping my abdomen lightly to watch it jiggle. Every little flaw is noted out loud in that detached, professional tone that makes me feel like a piece of meat being examined.
Then comes the worst part.
He guides me onto the table, forces my legs up into the cold metal stirrups, spreading me obscenely wide. Thick leather restraints buckle tightly around my wrists and thighs, pinning me completely. I can’t close my legs. I can’t even shift away. I’m completely helpless, cunt on full display under the harsh lights.
The doctor sits between my spread legs and begins the pelvic exam. His gloved fingers probe roughly around my entrance, spreading my lips apart without any gentleness. He slides two thick fingers deep inside me, scissoring and stretching me open while he measures and inspects. The speculum comes next — ice-cold metal that he forces into my tight hole without warming it. He cranks it open wide, stretching my walls painfully as he shines a light inside me, commenting on how wet I’m already getting.
“Patient is exhibiting clear signs of arousal again,” he says flatly, like I’m not even there.
His fingers find my swollen clit and start rubbing — firm, clinical, merciless circles. No matter how much I struggle against the restraints or beg him to stop, he doesn’t. He just keeps rubbing faster, occasionally slapping my exposed cunt when I squirm too much. The wet, filthy sounds of his gloved fingers pumping in and out of my dripping pussy echo in the quiet room. He adds a third finger, stretching me brutally while his thumb grinds hard on my clit until my thighs are shaking uncontrollably.
I fight it. I really do. But I always end up cumming hard around his fingers like a pathetic, restrained little slut — walls clenching and gushing all over his hand while he watches with cold professional interest.
By the time he’s done, I’m a dripping, trembling mess. He finally removes the speculum and restraints, hands me a single thin wipe like it’s nothing, and says, “Clean yourself up. Same time next week.”
I know I should stop going. But I’ll be back. Naked. Shivering. Restrained. Until he finally says I’m “cured”… even though we both know I never will be.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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im not ragebaiting anymore im rapebaiting. pissing you off with the intent that it makes you want to pin me down and violate me. getting on your nerves and being blissfully unaware of my open drink. i'll keep acting like a brat up until i begin to black out, slowly realizing what you're going to do to me
How about you tie my wrists and my ankles up and place a vibrator on my pussy but I’m not allowed to cum until you say so. You edge me for almost 20 minutes and talk to me in a condescending tone and faux sympathy and by the time you’re about to allow me to cum, I’m shaking and begging you to let me to cum already…
“Look at you, baby. Awwww, does somebody want to cum already? Huh..? Yeah? That’s too bad.. yeah that’s too bad. You have to be patient. I love seeing you like this. Shaking and begging me to let you cum. This was your idea, princess. To restrain you and edge you until I want you to cum. You can wait. Hm.. who knows maybe I’ll edge you for longer? Maybe a couple hours? How does that sound, baby? Leaving you here restrained with the vibrator on its highest mode. Awww, does that make you sad, baby? Are you tearing up? You need to cum that bad? My sweet girl.. poor thing. My little slut wants to cum so bad. You have to wait just a bit to get what you want, sweetie. You can’t wait? You need to learn how to be patient. Don’t worry I’ll teach you. You’re poor swollen clit.. god you’re so wet.. my poor baby.. you want to cum so bad.. that’s too bad, baby. Begging, whimpering, and tearing up won’t get you what you want that easily.”
Rubbing her clit gently while she's asleep so you can get her just wet enough to slowly insert your cock inside her and use her while she probably thinks she's having a wet dream
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
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