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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.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
âBecause September 11 happened. I felt like a lot of people my age wanted retribution. Then when I got in, it turned into not being about a moral crusade but about the people in my platoon.âÂ
The soft country music sounds unfurl throughout the trailer as they couple with the savory scents coming from the kitchen as Clyde starts whippinâ up dinner for tonight. Itâs Monday, and that meant that the bar was closed for the day, on account of today beinâ the day their suppliers bring in the groceries and the alcohol orders; giving Clyde the day off.
He didnât really do much during the day, there was just something in the air that made today one of those lazy warm spring days. Just like any other week day, Clyde had woken up to the sound of birds singing outside in the bright midday light; his eyes tired, and his expression groggy as he pouts, still half-asleep, reaching out to the other side of the bed, his fingers hoping to find your beautiful soft skin and being met by empty bed sheets. It takes him a moment to remember what day it was before realizing that you were probably already at work before rolling over to your side to smell your long-cold pillow, reveling in that unidentifiable smell that is so uniquely yours.Â
That was one of the hardest things about being a bartender; your schedules were all messed up, and while Clyde mostly worked nights, you worked during the day. It was usually during the weekends that the both of you had the chance to just wake up during midday and spend time together snuggling or lazing about before Clyde had to go to work.
See the market place in old algiers
Send me photographs and souvenirs
Just remember when a dream appears
You belong to me
The song kept playing while he thought of you and how it was yaâll had met.Â
Now most people donât know this, but Clyde is an avid reader; ever since he was a boy youâd find his nose buried in a book or a novel that piqued his interest, in his own little world. Even during his tours overseas, youâd be able to find him with a book tucked into his pack, stained and foxed, protected as if it was his most precious possession. It was one of the few luxuries he had in Iraq; the one, if not the only, comfort he had during that time. By now, he was well familiar with the smell of the old books that line his wall in testament to each and every story and topic. And It was because of his love of books that he was lucky enough to have met you..
 He can remember it as if it was still today; the fall air carried the smell of petrichor throughout the streets as he walked along the main avenue, making his way towards Goldbergâs bookstore, in search of a novel a patron at the bar had recommended. He remembers the bookshelves bathed in light coming in from the windows, the all-to familiar smell of books in the air caressing his nose as he walked through row after row.
And there you were; your voice like a song, your smile like warm sunshine and your eyes welcoming. Y/N was your name, the name of an Angel if heâd ever hear one. You were new in the shop, recently moved to Boone County to help out Mr. Goldberg, an old family friend, with his business, youâd explained, in hopes of learninâ the ropes and hopefully settinâ up your own business in the future.Â
As you went on and on about different novels and genres you recommended for him to read, he slowly became enamored by you, entranced with that sweet smile he could warm his heart in the coldest of snow storms. It was like the world fell away, leaving the two of you alone in the universe, and for every word that you said to him, the more enamored he became.
In a way meeting you was like poetry, he figured. You were both opposites, attracted to each other by a force unknown to many; unexplained, but felt. He was quiet, where you were talkative; grumpy, where you were Happy; reserved, where you were boisterous; and introverted, where you radiated open exuberance.Â
But you were his darlinâ, and he wouldnât have it any other way. He wouldn't trade a single moment with you talkinâ his ear off, wouldnât trade a single late night dance in your living room, or any of your moments in bed talkinâ for nothinâ in this world.Â
Fly the ocean in a silver plane
See the jungle when it's wet with rain
Just remember till you're home again
You belong to me
The whole house smelled like fresh herbs and citrus as the chicken finished cookinâ in the oven, as he blanched the vegetables for tonight. Youâd be getting home soon, and he wanted to surprise you by makinâ you dinner just for the two oâ you. âHopefully, thereâd be dessert afterâ, he inwardly muses to himself, his smile pullinâ at his cheeks, showing off the dimples you always teased him for.
He was just getting the chicken out of the oven when he heard the sound of the door closinâ shut.
âHi Baby.â He can hear you call out from the living room over rustling and shuffling of the sounds of you taking off your jacket and purse. Most likely, you laid both on your usual spot in the couch before the footsteps souffle around a bit round the living room.
You made your way into the kitchen, looking at Clydeâs muscular back turned towards you. His chest was covered by a dark colored band tee shirt that fit him deliciously well, his pants were a normal pair of cargo shorts, reaching his knees. Just last night you were able to admire your belovedâs physique as you laid awake, running your hands through his chest, stopping just right between his pecs, playing with the little tufts of hair that grew there as the night drew on and one as sleep eluded you; your thoughts too loud in the deafening silence to let you do much else.
It never ceased to amaze you, how this gorgeous and sexy mountain of a man came to love you. How was it that someone you caught the eye of someone like him, youâll never know.Â
 You try to quiet all the thoughts in your head as you go over to him, hugging him from behind as you nestled your face between his shoulder blades. Your hands clasped on his toned abdomen as he placed his own sweetly on top oâ yours.
âHey Darlinâ â He whispers to you before turning around in your arms to face you, wrapping his arms around you.
His nose caress your jaw as he leans down, nuzzling his face with yours before his lips connect with yours. The kiss is sweet and chaste; but much too short for his liking.
âSomethingâs wrongâ, he realized. Youâre not being your cheery self. His warm ray of summer sunshine. He cradles your head in his large right hand as he looks at you concerned. The light in your eyes were dulled with something he couldnât place. That beautiful smile heâd move heaven and earth for was now hidden from his sight, never to be seen.
You make a move to separate from him, but he wonât let ya as he wraps his left arm around your waist.
âEverythinâ alright?â He asks you, his voice soft and cautious, betraying his ever growing concern.
âYeahâ You reply curtly, not wanting to elaborate, and Clyde didnât want to push it; youâd tell him eventually. Right?
Dinner was quiet, at least, too quiet for his liking. During this time you always talked about how your day was, or what news you read about that day, or what movie or tv show you wanted to watch. But now it was too quiet. At first, he thought that maybe youâre just havinâ a bad day; everyone can have one a those after all, so he let it slide as you both sat on the couch to watch some TV together before headinâ out to bed. The usual warmth and cozyness that came with sharin the bed was absent that night as you separated from him and slept on your side, with your back to him.
âYouâll talk to me when youâre good and readyâ he reminds himself as drifter off to sleep, hoping to just get this day over with.
The week past and still no change; now he was worried.
Clyde just couldnât understand what was happeninâ. He tried to let his worry know by being more affectionate, reminding you that heâs here for you, but you wouldnât talk. YOU wouldnât talk.
Now his own home felt uncomfortable. He was used to waking up to the sound of your footsteps, hearing you move around in the kitchen, talkinâ on the phone or turninâ the TV on. He was used to late night impromptu dances to old romantic country songs or pop music on the living room floor. Â
Now it was just silence, interrupted by a few comments or questions here and there and not much else.
He knew something was wrong, but how can he approach the subject; itâs obvious you didnât wanna talk about it, but how can he bare it to see you like this? To see his beautiful wildflower look dispirited and wilted; troubled by some unknowable issue that he doesnât know.
To see you like this breaks his heart, causing a deep emptiness inside of himself, feeling useless and worthless for not being a good enough boyfriend and knowing whatâs wrong.
Was it something he did, or something he didnât do? Was it someone else that caused this change in you? Did something happen at work? He wanted to know, wanted to see if there was anything HE could do to soothe your troubles. He just canât bare it. Itâs like you were so muted that nothing he said got through to you.Â
He tried to make conversation during breakfast today, reaching out to hold your hand, but you only looked at him and gave him a brief polite smile that didnât reach your eyes; itâs clear your mind was worlds away and all he wanted to do was reach out, to touch those beautiful cheeks of yours and see you smile.
It wasnât until he was washing the dishes for you that he finally said âfuck itâ and decided to broach the subject. He was tired of walkinâ on egg shells letting walk around like a ghost half the time.
You were layinâ on the couch when he came over, your eyes glued to your phone as your right leg fidgets incessantly; a tell tale sign that you were anxious or nervous he thinks as he sits beside you on the couch.
âDarlinâ, is something wrong?â Clyde asks you patiently.
You simply shrug your shoulders before you answer him curtly with âNo, nothingâs wrong.â but thatâs a lie if he ever heard one. âOkay, enough oâ this.â he says to himself as he square his shoulders to seriously talk to you.
âHoney, youâve been like this since last monday; youâve been walkinâ around, and youâre a million miles away. Youâre not talkinâ...Youâve barely been eatinâ. Now, whatâs got you like this sweetheart? Whatâs takinâ away that gorgeous smile oâ yours?â Clyde asked you gently as if you were a child, slowly caressing your cheek as he did. You saw his concern, and you canât blame him either. Youâve been so shitty to him lately, andâŚ
âItâs nothing.â You repeat to him, stubborn as a mule, heâd call you; well, you guess youâre proving him right. You just didnât want to mix him into this, into your own shit show. You slowly shake your head trying to emphasize that nothingâs wrong.
âY/Nâ
âItâs nothing, okay? How many times do I have to say it?!â The dam finally breaks unleashing a monsoon of emotions as you get up, yelling at him as you do, your mind forgetting that he isnât the reason for this, but honestly...he poked the fucking bear.Â
Clyde isnât one to take this lyinâ down as he got up, his height towering over yours when he came with a retort. âAs many times as I gotta say it until ya talk to me!â His twang came out as he raised his voice just by a bit. He figures if he has to force it outta ya, he might as well do it; rip the band-aid off, so to speak.Â
âHonestly, why do you get off my back for once?! Leave it at that!â
âBecause thatâs not what ya do! Ya donât talk taâ me, you donât eat, you donât dance and youâre always a million miles away. Itâs like ya ainât here at all!â Clyde exhales deeply through his nose, trying to hold on to his patience. The last thing he needed was to blow off in your face, but he canât help but get frustrated as you shake your head, effectively stonewallinâ him; shutting him out.
âWhy canât you just tell me whatâs wrong? Is it that hard to let me know?â he asks you desperately. You just keep shaking your head at him, but he sees it. Your eyes start to water as you turn your face away from him, trying to see anything but him. Itâs enough that your life is a shitstorm right now, you really didnât need this, not right now. âWhat the fuck is so wrong about that?â
You move to walk to the bedroom and away from him but he follows you to the hallway, and you stop. You didnât want to lash out, he didnât deserve it, but at this point, it isnât something he can help. âJust fuck off, and leave would you?!â.....
The silence is deafening as he waited there standing next to you. Your eyes water as she can see Clydeâs hurt face, and thatâs it; you canât hold everything in anymore. You feel as if the weight of the world is crushing you as you slide down the wall to the floor, your face lookinâ down as you close your eyes. âI canât, I canât.â Clyde hears you whisperinâ. He quietly moves his massive figure to sit beside you, his jaw trembles as it breaks his heart seeing you like this. âI canâtâŚ.I canât do this anymore! I canât take care of everyone! Iâm only one person, I canât work at the bookstore, help my mom, help daddy, and I fought with my sisters because I canât keep takinâ care of Camila...I feel like Iâm drowning, and Iâm just so fuckinâ exhausted...And then youâre asleep and then you work nights at the bar. And I know it isnât fair because thatâs your job, and I donât want you to feel bad about it and...Iâm tired, I canât.â Tears start to slip down your eyes as you look downward to your knees, sniffling as you start to cry from the stress of it all, from feeling like youâve been runninâ a marathon with no end in sight.
 âAnd I donât want you to know, because...I donât want you to stop lookinâ at me that way.â You managed to get out while looking at him in the eye. Clyde cradles your head with his right hand wiping the tears from your cheeks before asking the questions that's floatinâ in his head. âLike what honey?
In the silence of the trailer on a saturday afternoon, he heard your pained whisper and he felt it in his heart. âLike Iâm perfect, like I can do anything.â You break down and cry, breaking Clyde's heart further; causing him to pull you into his arms and cradle your head in the crook of his neck, embracing you like youâre the most important thing in the world to me. You feel the cold touch of metal as he embraces you fully in his arms while he sits you in his lap on the floor; letting you cry into his shirt as he waits until you calmed down.
âBaby, you canât expect to do everythinâ. You canât take care of your mommy, your daddy, and help your sister out with âer kids and do everything at work. Take a deep breath. Itâs okay, youâre human; and you may act like it, but youâre not a superwomanâŚ. I just wish youâd just told me all oâ this before. You know you can always tell me anythinâ, no matter what happens Iâll always look at you like youâre perfect, because to me youâre the most perfect woman in the world; my own wonder woman.â He crooned softly to you as you cried. âIf ya need help, all ya had to do was ask. Weâll get your sister someone to help with her kids, maybe your mama can help her. And we can figure out how to take care of things, ok? Donât ya worry.â he kissed your forehead gently and held you tighter to him.
Eventually, your tears stopped, and your cries turned to sniffles as Clyde held you in his strong arms. His shirt is stained with your tears, but he doesnât care, he doesnât mind it neither when you play with a lock of his dark hair as the both of you just sit there, together; isolated in the silence of your home.
Clyde slowly got up, picking you up in his arms quiet effortlessly as he made his way to your bedroom. You smush your face against his shirt, not wanting to see anything else besides him. He was sweet and gentle when he placed you in their bed, treating you as if you were a child to be put to sleep. You held onto him, making it difficult to get in bed beside you, but when he finally did, the both of you locked in a mutual embrace.
The smell of Clydeâs scent lulls your senses as you burrow further in his cozy arms, tangling your legs together so as to be as close as possible.Â
The peace of the mutual silence was disturbed as you spoke to him in the softest of whispers possible. âThank you.â At this he pulled back a bit to take a good look at ya for a bit. Your eyes are still wet, your nose red, from all the cryinâ, your skin is flushed and your hair is a bit messy; it was one of the beautiful sights heâs ever seen. To him you look perfect, no matter what.Â
âI guess this is what they mean when someone says I love you, warts and all.â he thought to himself, feeling more in love with you and closer to you than he ever thought possible. Â
It was here in the quiet that you asked yourself again; just how did you get so lucky as to find yourself here, in the loving arms of someone like him. Clyde was your rock, your port in the storm, and not for the first time, you find yourself thanking the universe for bringing him into your life; this soft-spoken, towering, book-readinâ, country-music-singinââ, nature-lovinâ, well-mannered, shy and lovinâ man.Â
You look at him, giving you the softest smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did so.Â
âI love you, my Marigold.â he said before nudging your chin up, tilting your head to meet his plush lips with yours. The kiss was soft and slow, for how long neither knew, before he let go and nuzzled his nose against yours with affection. His facial hair tickled, causing you to giggle a bit. To Clyde, it was the most beautiful sound. He was happy that he got his smile back.
Thatâs when he knew, youâd be alright.Â
The moment served as a silent promise, that heâll love you when youâre alright...and that heâll be here when youâre not.