Aug 14, 2019
A pink aesthetic for you.
Loading...
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from Slovenia
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Puerto Rico
seen from Bangladesh
seen from South Africa
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Mexico
seen from Canada
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Mexico
seen from Colombia
A pink aesthetic for you.
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
Arbitrary 👁
“My downfall: those pink articulate lips, divinely flavoured portals to a mouth where soul dissolves... eyes darting beneath black brows.”
Via; Dioskorides, tr. by Peter Whigham, from The Greek Anthology; “Epigrams,”
Go on, light your cigarette, feel the warm smoke rush into fill your quivering lungs.
Replenish each cell you have deprived of the chemical that keeps you going.
though both our steps off the inviting ledge into oblivion were taken at the same time,
though your hands held mine as we spun repeatedly, gracefully downwards, and mine held yours,
though our lips locked twice, once by me, then once by you
an explosion of neon pink and purple burst from our tightly knit bodies
our fall has been long, but ever so sweet
we both enjoy every inch that we fall deeper
deeper into each other
deeper into a gaze that becomes a thief of our breath
deeper into our minds, filling one another's with pieces of ourselves,
deeper, deeper, and deeper we fall
in love.
with one another.
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
The alluring game we play tip-toeing around eachother, as if we are kids playing hide and go seek;
as erotic as it is,
I cant help but feel the overwhelming urge to finally let my breath go and sprint to you shamelessly revealing my hiding spot.
My fallen angel, if you will-
show me the streaks of gold within your matte black soul.
if you will-
open the doorway locked by 3 locks
masked by your arcane glare; your presence swift like a fox.
Fallen angel, take my hand
just this once
ill help you stand
My primitively trained sense of abandonment lurks like a cougar stalking its prey in a tall grass plane. As the beauty progresses, it takes gentle steps closer, ever so slowly, crackling the delicate leaves beneath its massive paws. Im incapable of seeing it coming but my senses tell me its there, watching my every movement. Each rustle in the grass intimately brings the residual fear back to flood my veins once again. When will it strike? Im not sure if it ever will. But just the knowledge of its existence is enough to send my mind down a spiral of worry. The beauty of this present moment is overwhelming. It radiates, leaving me full filled; if only that damn cougar would go away. Its ambiance, knocking at my door begging to enter and ruin my exquisite masterpieces. I wish for the feline to gaze upon me and determine I am unfit to be his meal. I wish for him to turn away and find another gazelle to stalk.