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
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
I've been taking the GO Train for about 4 hours every week or so since June. I ride it when my boyfriend comes to the city to visit me, meeting him at the station that he drives to so that we can spend the time on the train together. I do the same for when he goes home, quick goodbyes after the hour long ride with him. Rushing to the other platform to catch my train back, passing the stations we'd been at only minutes earlier.
Alone and then together, and then apart.
Soon all these train rides will seem like the distant past. We'll ride the train together and reminisce on all those times when seeing each other wasn't so easy. How lucky we will be, how lucky we are now.
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
Something I wrote in February of this year, before the end of my then relationship. Creative fiction, slightly NSFW, I just felt like sharing. I had wanted to write more, but perhaps thankfully started feeling better. Approx 1.5k words.
The Week Before Valentine's Day.
The man lying beside me made a soft noise as he slept. His warm back pressed against the front of me. My hand stuck to his bare side with a thin layer of sweat between us. In the darkness, my arm felt infinite, stretched too far from myself and grounded by his skin against my palm. It was easy to ignore his weight in the bed. He wasn't so much more than a dog at the foot of it.
The clothes I wore filled with steam under the covers as I lay there, all too aware of his breath. It was far too fast, his heartbeat as well, when I could hear it. It ruined my calm rhythm, distracted me without compensation. Still, I didn't make a move to change things, to pull myself away from his heat. The winter weather loomed just beyond the door. I kept myself away from it for now, knowing soon my thirst would push me to quench it.
My knees ached from being tucked under his thighs, though whatever care I had for him was enough to concern me with his rest. My arm receded. The icy fingers of the hand near my face wiped tired tears from my eye before I let myself stretch. Joints cracking carelessly in the quiet, far louder than the pipes had been.
As I lifted from the mattress, my bones squeaked against each other. The air against my legs was a stark chill, and yet I could still feel the sweat bead down my arm. I slid headphones over my ears to cushion the blow of exiting the confines of that black box. You mentioned last night that you'd be going for a run in the morning. A walk, then a run. I couldn't help but wonder, would your bones ache like mine? If they did, I knew I'd gladly listen close enough to hear them. That sound of yours, better than any music I could listen to.
Impatiently waiting, as usual, I checked to see if you were online. A resounding 'no' echoed back at me. Hardly surprising, you were busy, far too busy for me at least. The phone in my hand remained a tether to you and, therefore, quite valuable. The bright light pouring in from the windows forced the screen brighter, evidence of your absence only more apparent in my livening eyes.
My focus shifted to the chore of getting dressed. Hood up already covering my unwashed hair, I slid soft shapeless pants up my legs and over the underwear I'd slept in. If I went out today, it would be later, and I'd put something else on. How I looked didn't matter, nobody worth impressing would see me like this.
I could imagine your clothes confining you. How thick layers kept you wrapped and safe against the elements. The weave of threads against your skin. How they must cling to you as I would. Pieces of yourself like shrapnel rubbing off on them. I thought about it with a certain envy, one that only grew in tandem with guilt. Knowing I would never be as close to you as they were, that you wouldn't want me to be.
The tacky, dry feeling of my lips reminded me of myself. A body in service required tending to, including my own. The kitchen surrounded me as the water from the tap broke through to me. I filled the glass halfway before my eager nature got in the way, pulling it back and swallowing the cold water down. I placed it in the sink to fill, waiting now that I'd had that first sip.
Soon the glass was drained, and my body insisted upon itself. I was sick from emptiness. The feeling could be pleasant, the waiting. Knowing that my hunger was the same as anyone else's. Something normal that I too could partake in. Sitting with it and willfully denying the solution, only for a moment.
I made myself a simple meal of toast and jam. If I had been cooking for you, I would have done much better, I promise. Maybe I'd impress you with the thought and effort put into making something solely for your consumption. The idea of it made me far more pleased than it had any right to. The crunch of toast between my teeth, though satisfying, would pale in comparison to the orchestra of your mouth devouring a meal. I'd wait with bated breath for your assessment. The thought of your disappointment was a swift hand against my unflinching face. I had burnt the toast, and the jam did little to mask the taste.
Having finished what was hardly a meal, I faced the knowledge that the day had several more hours in it. Filling the moments in between us was always a major grievance, knowing what I should do and deciding against it time and again. My hand went to my phone. Perhaps you would be available now. The negative feedback was instant; I would check again later.
The small task of tidying the kitchen was enough for a while. With my hands busy and my thoughts elsewhere, I hadn't realized that the man had woken up. He walked into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around me in a way he assumed I'd like. I struggled not to shift under it, to accept the unexpected closeness. At least he was warm, I could lean into that warmth and take it for myself. He said something I couldn't make out over the sound playing from my headphones. I didn't bother asking him to repeat it. I uncovered my ears and looked at him, and gave a simple, "I love you. How did you sleep?"
He had slept well and told me about his plans for the day, all the while his hand slid lower and grabbed my ass. He emphasized how good I looked today, that he loved me, and that we could do something together later. I replied easily, accepting, though I moved out of his hold. I let him fend for himself.
I left the kitchen, making myself scarce and retreating into the now emptied bedroom. The overhead lights revealed the room’s true nature, soft sheets comforting in their ability to hide me away from the world. Settling down on the mattress I had so recently left, I propped myself upright against the pillows. This is where I would stay, venturing into the kitchen when necessary and into the living room when bored. He would be there, sitting on the couch with his laptop. I'd bother him from time to time, keeping myself entertained. Still, nothing had changed. I sat alone, merely 15 feet from where I had been sitting previously.
It wasn't out of any sense of enjoyment that I stayed in the house, merely that leaving it would involve needing somewhere else to go. I had no such places, not presently. If I left and made myself busy, you might suddenly be available, and I would miss my opportunity to have you to myself. Even as I tried to placate my mind with a myriad of stimulation, I could only watch the clock in the corner of my screen. The minutes that passed brought me closer to you.
Seeing me like this, there wouldn't be any love in your eyes. Perhaps concern, but more likely disdain. You'd tell me to get a life, and I should. If you ever told me that, I just might do it. I'd listen to you, with the hope that you'd care if I did so.
My fingers around the phone got colder. I could feel my blood pool, unable to reach them. My hands were growing numb from the position I held my arms. I shifted slightly to alleviate the sensation and curled up on my side in the blankets. Time's habit of moving slowly when focused on and quickly when forgotten never sat right with me. It always led to my time shared with you feeling far too short.
Hours spun around me as I made myself useless. Flitting idly from the bed to the kitchen was the extent of my adventures. Still not a word from you. Bored enough then to think about the man sitting in the living room. He was a serviceable distraction. My feet brought me to him, and I watched him quietly. He hadn't noticed my appearance yet, and I adjusted myself appropriately. Calm and confident, I began, "I miss you."
His attention became mine in that moment. A smile sprang to his face as his eyes met mine. I smiled in reply, coming to sit beside him. His hand came to my thigh, and I braved the touch. Sweet words spilled from him, and I replied in thanks. I eased myself, angling into him with a slight lean. He seemed satisfied with that. My hand on his chest as I slotted myself against him, "You should have sex with me."
The lack of subtlety in my words had never been a cause for concern. The offer was clear, and he would accept. Situating myself with a leg over his thigh, I came onto him. His response was immediate, his arms holding onto me as the world turned, and my back was pressed flat against the couch. He was above me then, asking for permission, which I gave too easily. Clammy palms slid down my hips and under my shirt, my stomach turning.
I shut my eyes because it was allowed during this sort of thing, for which I was thankful. Unable to resist shifting in discomfort beneath his touch, it lent itself to the act of desire. Spurred on by my willingness, he continued. My hand found its way to his hair, shorter than yours. Tugging gently, I brought my mouth to his neck and bit down. The flesh between my teeth was soft and pliant. His quiet whimper of pain was the only pleasurable aspect of this exchange. I thought of your skin and how sweet it would taste, how lucky I would be to have it against my tongue. I stayed lying there until he was finished.
He cleaned himself up. I rewarded his efforts with a quiet, "Thank you, that was great." He agreed enthusiastically, kissing my cheek as he handed me a cloth. I scrubbed at my skin, at the places he'd been. Leaving the living room after the evidence of the encounter had been wiped away.
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
