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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.
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Sandpaper Hands
During our first fight I stood in your kitchen my tears flooding your linoleum, wailing: I can't handle this it's too much you're too good too good and too soft for me to hold in my hands lined with sandpaper I am so afraid of squeezing too tight I have never been able to just like anything to just hold it I have always loved the life out of it
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
You tell me you love me, that I can see it in your eyes. But what good does that do, why should I care- if you won't do a damn thing about it.
Journal excerpts, 1.20.20.
E.A.P.
I'm all in, really. Like “changing my address” all in. I want to fall asleep watching Netflix with you and bake vegetarian lasagna and bring you dinner in the garage as you work through the morning. I want couples costumes in October and stressful holidays in December and making love in the hammock in July. I'm talking about long car rides and podcasts about Ferrari and Nietzche, one right after another. I want photo albums I can touch. I want your face climbing out of the shower as look in the mirror and slide a bobby pin behind my ear. I'm talking about slicing strawberries in the kitchen while you make coffee. And when you see you're out of hazelnut creamer, I wanna sit across from you at the kitchen table and make a goddamn grocery list.
E.A.P.
