seen from France
seen from Venezuela
seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from China
seen from Netherlands
seen from Azerbaijan
seen from China
seen from Spain
seen from Canada
seen from Australia
seen from Mexico
seen from United States
seen from Mexico
seen from Bulgaria
seen from Spain
seen from Bulgaria
seen from United States
seen from Mexico
i think every time the paparazzi swarm sae just instinctively shields you. he gently cups the back of your head, tucks your face into his chest and lets his frame block the chaos. while one hand protects you, the other one throws a middle finger to the flashing cameras. he’s used to being the center of attention but he has no intention of sharing you with the world. you’re his, for his eyes only
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.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
See makoto and co take their shoes off in other peoples houses like CIVILIZED PEOPLE
No offense but I'd die for Makoto Niijima to have a good life
i think sae has some seriously dedicated (crazy) fans out there who analyze and dissect every tiny detail in his social media posts. he’ll casually share a post workout selfie at home and within less than a minute the internet is blowing up with news of him seeing someone bc in that selfie the fans spotted a blurry pair of slippers in the background that looked way too small to be his. accidental soft launch
sae is territorial. when you sit together in a room full of people, he puts his hand on your knee to signal ownership — this is mine. do not even look her way. do not even dare. he’s talking to someone else, head and torso turned towards the person having the audacity to take from his time while he can be looking at you instead. but the hand stays there, on your flesh. stroking gently. like a cat rubbing their scent against an object they want to mark as their own. to let other cats know they were there. this belongs to me. back off.
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.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
…share with the class please? 👀
sae-nii likes to sit you on his lap after he comes back from practice. he taps his hand on his leg, only once, like he’s calling a puppy. once is enough bc he’s trained you well — you know what that means and you know what to do. you go and sit your ass on his lap with your back facing him. he talks to you, asks you what you did while he was gone. he wants to know every single detail from the moment you woke up. you go about it and he listens. he places one hand at the side of your waist, stroking up and down in slow motions, and listens while his other hand is busy touching the growing bulge in his pants. he asks if you showered. if yes — he asks if you shaved or not, asks what color of underwear you chose to wear today, and if you already washed the ones you took off this morning. he waits for you to fully ease him into every tiny detail before he unbuckles his pants and takes out his cock, palming himself with eyes closed — picturing you naked in the shower, the water hugging your body, streaming down and in between your thighs, he’s trying to imagine how your panties must smell after you slept in them all night... you’re not sure why your step brother wants to know all of these things about you, but you tell him anyway. you’re not sure if what you’re doing on that couch is appropriate but you’ve done it so many times that it, at least, feels normal to you. you are so used to it by now that you’re aware when he is close just by the way his breathing quickens. and you always instinctively lift your shirt up so you can feel his hot sticky seed cover the small of your back
sae acts all dignified, cold, and uninterested around you. but when he’s all alone in his room, and his eyes fall closed, a deep sigh escapes his throat as his thoughts turn to you. and all that attitude suddenly shrinks and perishes. your voice is playing in his ears and he likes to imagine how you’re telling him things, whispering what you like. what you want. and he’s perfectly aware that he's never been this low, this pathetic, in his entire life before. yet he keeps shrinking, going lower and lower. grabbing a fistful of the pillow next to him, picturing in his frantic mind it’s part of your flesh, while stroking himself painfully slow, with endless edging. as if he’s atoning for a sin
