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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
thinking about this still 10hrs later bc like. this isnt meant to be like 'ilya lets shane walk all over him' but more like this is where shane can make mistakes. this is where shane can fumble and say the wrong things and make the wrong choices and be scared and angry and sad and anything else he feels, and ilya will keep loving him. they will keep working together to make sure they figure things out. there are so few spaces in shanes life where he can genuinely Fuck Up and entirely recover from that, and ilya is maybe the only place in his life where he doesnt feel that he has to reach that unobtainable level of perfection. he can bite ilyas hand, and ilya will still feed him.
had to cook up Ilya putting a cigarette in shane's asshole
“You know I hate when you do that,” Shane complains as soon as he hears the flick of the lighter. He shifts his foot sideways. Toes hitting against Ilya’s ankle. A weak reprimand.
“It’s after sex cigarette, Hollander,” Ilya grouses, moving his leg away. “Not nuclear bomb.”
“Whatever, asshole. You know you don’t have to smoke it in the fucking bed,” Shane whines. He sounds actually frustrated. Actually mad. Ilya grins around his cigarette. His Shane is so cute all worked up like that.
“You want me to leave?” He asks.
“No,” Shane answers, quickly. Body tense. Barely restrained panic in his voice. Ilya nearly chokes on his inhale. Shane was too easy. He just had him. And he needs him again.
Cigarette between his lips he rolls over. Pins Shane underneath him. Shane looks at him cross-eyed. Red faced. He brings a hand up to Ilya’s forehead and pushes him back.
“Get away from me, asshole,” Shane cries. Pushes against him again. “I don’t want your fucking smoke in my face.”
“No, no, I think you like it,” Ilya teases. Takes a drag. Blows it right at Shane. Shane scrunches his face up. Twitches his nose. Coughs. Wipes at his watery eyes.
“Stop it! I do not!”
“Mmm, you want to try?” He holds out the cigarette. Ash falls onto Shane’s chest making him wince.
“You know I don’t. Stop it! You’re such an asshole,” Shane pushes at him again. Ilya likes to see him like this. Red faced. Flushed chest. Vein in his neck bulging. There wasn’t a prettier sight. He needs him.
He grips under Shane’s knees, cigarette brushing against his skin, and pushes his legs back. Shane yelps but doesn’t resist. He falls back easily. Folds easily. Opens for him so easily. And open he does. His hole soft. Inviting. Gaping from the fucking he just received.
He dives in. Laps his tongue around the supple brown flesh of his puffy rim. Bits at the swollen flesh. Lavishes him. Shane is writhing below him. Hands over his face. Breathy little moans escaping from deep within him. From his fucking core.
Shane’s hole opens easily against his tongue. His insides warm. Soft and velvety against him. He tastes like salt and lube. He tastes irresistible. He stays there between his thighs until he needs to come up for air.
He smirks when he does. Shane’s arm is thrown over his eyes. Cock fully hard against his belly. Pre-come pooling against his skin. Ilya puts the cigarette between his lips. Waits for Shane to uncover his face. Gazes into those big brown eyes. Inhales.
He slithers back down. Back between Shane’s thighs. Back between his cheeks. He blows the smoke against Shane’s sensitive skin.
“Oh, fuck,” Shane gasps. Flexes his glutes. Clenches. Relaxes. His hole widens. Almost accepting the smoke. Inviting it in.
“Ha, see I told you you like it,” Ilya says smugly.
The cigarette dangles between his fingers begging to be smoked. He looks from the cigarette to Shane’s sweet, plush, inviting hole. Back to the cigarette.
“Does your needy hole want to smoke my cigarette?” Ilya asks.
Shane breathes in violently. The sniffle of air into his nose loud. He pushes up against the bed. Eyes wide.
“What?” He asks.
“Does your needy hole want to smoke my cigarette? I think it does. I think it is craving it even,” Ilya tells him. “It opened up so much for my smoke. Gaped for it. It’s greedy for my cigarette. Just like it’s greedy for my cock, yes?”
“What? No! You’re fucking crazy,” Shane protests. But even in the dim light of the room Ilya can see his eyes darken. His dick twitch. Leak.
“Just one hit, please. Your hungry hole is begging for it. Pleading. Hollander, you must give your hole just one hit,” Ilya teases. Begs.
Shane is quiet. He doesn’t respond. Doesn’t protest. His eyes are firmly planted on the burning cigarette between Ilya’s fingers. He licks his lips. That’s as good as a yes for Ilya. He takes one last drag. Blows the smoke against Shane’s hole. He opens for him. For his smoke.
He brings the cigarette to Shane’s hole. Pushes the filter into his gape. And Shane tightens around it. Body tense. Effortful. Closes his hole around the cigarette.
“Fuck, look at you,” Ilya praises. “Such a bad boy. Smoking in bed like this. Tsk tsk. You know this is not good for your health, Hollander.”
Shane moans. Head falling back against his pillow. Fingers clutching into the sheets. Ilya wraps a hand around Shane’s heavy leaking cock. Strokes him steadily. Shane bucks gently into his grasp trying not to disturb the cigarette inserted in his ass.
“I did not know smoking made you so horny,” Ilya taunts. “Will have to do this more often.”
“Not-not again,” Shane manages through moans. Through heavy breathing.
“We will see. I’ve heard smoking is very,” He rubs his thumb over the tip of Shane’s leaking cock. Squeezes his hand around it. Shane tenses. Cries out. Comes down his cock. Down Ilya’s hand. “Addicitve”
Ilya pulls out the cigarette. Shane still coming down from his orgasm. Weightless. Floating. A single plume of thin white smoke escapes from his hole.
ilya pulls his softening cock from shane's hole, watching it emerge, appreciating how shane stretches a little more around the widest point, how the tip hangs onto shane's rim for a moment before slipping over the edge and letting ilya fall heavy between his thighs. ilya sighs in satisfaction. he sits back on his heels and presses his thumbs to either side of shane's hole, which is glistening at the edge and gaping around the space ilya left behind. ilya hums low and says, "show me how good your hole made me feel, kotik" and shane moans, indistinct in that way his sounds always are after a hard fucking. ilya watches shane's hole clench weakly—then takes in the sight he started imagining the moment that fucker in the ball cap attempted to buy shane a drink at the bar earlier: ilya's release, white and thick and slow, drooling from shane's hole. tracking the curve of his gorgeous ass down to the hotel sheets. something in ilya's chest purrs happily. finally. the visible sign of commitment around shane's ring finger is normally enough to nip ilya's possessiveness in the bud. but sometimes, when even that fails to deter shane's most helpless of admirers, ilya craves a more visceral reminder of his claim. there's nothing like this. ilya swipes two fingers through the trail of white and shane's mouth opens without prompting. ilya shudders. he hovers his coated fingers above shane's lips, asks, "who is this, malysh" and slides them in. shane moans. tastes. around ilya, he says, "you."
seven year old shaney trying to be helpful to the other kids at hockey camp and telling them “you should try aiming the puck at the net! that’s what i do”
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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