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
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
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
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
23/12: Home Videos and Voyeurism - Billy Washington
Word Count: 1.5k~ | Warnings: masturbation (m), voyeurism, home videos of sexual acts, smut
12 Days of Smuff Masterlist
Fuck work Christmas parties, Billy thinks with displeasure as he slobs across the sofa, half a can of Stella in one hand, the remote control in the other.
He felt a bit pathetic missing her after only a few hours. Suppose that was the worst bit about having a girlfriend that was also your best mate. But it did sound a bit precious when he thought about it like that.
The choice in TV shows didn't exactly sour him to pass the time either. It was that crappy few days between the last of the working year and Christmas, and there was sweet fuck all on tele.
Turning the volume down on a Christmas special of First Dates he glances outside, seeing that it's just begun to rain and he pulls lazily at one side of the curtains just enough to obscure his flat from passersbys on the street.
Propping up to fish his phone out his pocket, he scrolls mindlessly for a bit on Instagram Reels. But even then, the doomscrolling and repetitive music his algorithm thinks he likes gets boring fast.
A messenger bubble pop up on his screen.
‘missing me baby? 😘’
He huffs a short laugh, typing with one hand.
‘Bored out of my mind’
She reads it immediately, and the three bubbles feel like edging.
‘I’m sure you'll find a way to entertain yourself 😉’
Cheeky, he thinks with that warm feeling in his stomach. She knew how bricked up he was when he saw her leaving, in that velvety dress he always likes her to keep on when they come home and pull each other needily to the bedroom.
With a heaved sigh, he uses one hand to pull the buttons of his jeans apart, then the zip and slides his hand into his boxers, stroking his currently soft member while he found something to ‘entertain’ himself to.
The locked folder in his photos app was a godless place.
He blinked as the face recognition granted him access, his cock stirring in his palm when he was greeted by video after video and photo after photo.
Some, just her.
Some, both of them.
His breath hitches at some of the previews. It was something he started getting into to about six months into dating her. She was much more willing to discuss what she was into sexually than his other girlfriends, and he supposes it rubbed off on him.
And when he suggested if it was okay if he recorded them during sex, he'd never seen that naughty gleam in her eyes so bright before.
Like most things it was awkward at first. The first time they tried, she kept laughing nervously, her cheeks flushed as she covered her face and body with her hands. “I feel weird,” she had said, glancing briefly at his phone camera in one hand.
But when he reassured her that the videos and photos he had of her went absolutely nowhere beyond his eyes only, she was more...confident. She'd tease him when he started recording, cast sultry glances over her shoulder and pull him close to whisper ungodly things for his ears only.
His heart rate kicked up as his thumb hovered over one video in particular, remembering how she’d looked that night. Her skin glowing in the low light, her lips parted in soft moans, her eyes locked on his like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.
He tapped on the video, and immediately the screen came alive with her image. The frame started with her face, soft and radiant, her lips curved into a teasing smile as she leaned closer to the camera. Her eyes, half-lidded and filled with mischief, sparkled as she adjusted the angle, her voice a low murmur, “You better enjoy this later.”
She laid back, clad only in the lacy black bra and underwear set he loved so much. The fabric was so delicate it barely covered her entirely, teasing more than hiding really.
She was looking up at him, the movement of the camera making it obvious he was on top of her. The video caught the slow, deliberate rhythm of his hips moving against hers. Her body writhed beneath him, her chest rising and falling with each deep, shuddering breath.
Her moans were soft at first, little gasps and whimpers as she adjusted to the fullness of him. “Billy, you feel so good,” she whispered. His pace quickened slightly, the sound of their bodies meeting filling the room alongside her cries of pleasure.
He watched the video as his hand made its way down her front, kneading one breast before travelling downwards, his breath catching slightly as the angle caught a glimpse of the way he disappeared inside her over and over.
He adjusted slightly, pushing her knee back to change the angle, and the gasp she let out was enough to make his breath catch as he watched. “Right there, baby,” she murmured, her voice breaking into a moan as he thrust deeper—
Fuck.
That's where the video ends.
He'd clearly been so caught up in the moment that he'd abandoned the video.
But keen to keep up the building heat in his stomach, he swiped to the next. The feeling coiling tighter at the new video.
This time she was on her hands and knees, the view was tantalising, the curve of her spine leading down to where he was behind her, his hand firmly holding her hip. Her body moved in time with his thrusts, rocking forward with every deep push, and the sound of her breathless moans filled the otherwise quiet apartment.
Her head turned slightly toward the camera, and her eyes were glazed with lust, her lips parted as she gasped his name. “Harder,” she whispered, her voice raw and needy.
He stroked himself tighter, harder. So fucking close.
On the screen, she reached back, her fingers brushing against his thigh, urging him on. “Don’t stop,” she gasped.
And her voice was what finally sent him over the edge.
As the video reached its peak, he pulled back slightly, his hands sliding from her hips to the small of her back as he drove into her one last time. Her moans hit a crescendo, her body shuddering as she buried her face into the pillow.
His own hips stuttered, squeezing himself hard towards the tip, warmth coating his knuckles as he came.
The last few seconds of the video showed him pulling out, her body still trembling as he finished on her lower back, his pearly release glistening on her skin. She turned her head toward the camera with a sly, breathless smile, her voice soft but teasing as she said, “You’re cleaning that up, you know.”
He looked down at himself, chest heaving, and thought with a soft, tired chuckle, ‘yeah, no shit.’
He let his phone flop against his stomach as he laid his head back against the sofa, spent, boneless, with his softening cock loose in his palm.
“Am I interrupting something?”
He nearly jumped out of his fucking skin. His hand pulling so quickly out of his boxers out of sheer reflex, he was immediately brought back to the heart-wrenching moments his mum would enter his room without knocking.
But luckily, it was her.
She was smiling against the doorway, arms crossed and smug, her coat over the hook in the doorway.
“Fucking hell, babe, how long have you been there?” his voice was shaky, trying with sheer willpower alone to reduce his heart rate.
“Long enough,” she said, her voice dripping with teasing satisfaction.
Her gaze flicked down to his lap, and he followed it instinctively, moving quickly to pull his boxers back up, but too flustered to do up the buttons of his jeans. There was something both embarrassing and exhilarating at the prospect she'd been at the door, quite blatantly, watching him pleasure himself to her image.
She huffed a laugh and stepped into the room, deliberately swaying her hips, eyes darkening slightly as she stood in front of him. He could tell she was flushed from a few drinks, but not enough to be drunk. Just enough for her inhibitions to waver, and her confidence skyrocket.
“I’m guessing you were watching one of those videos,” she mused.
He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very exposed. “Maybe.”
She smirked, pulling the hem of her dress up so she was able to straddle his lap, relishing the hitch in his breath. “Which one?” she asked, casually, her arms slung over his shoulders, as if she were just taking a seat.
“The, uh…” He cleared his throat, trying to focus. “The one where you’re on your hands and knees.”
“Oh,” she teased, drawing the word out. “That one.”
She placed the phone on the coffee table. “Well,” she murmured, her hands sliding up his chest, “since you clearly couldn’t wait for me…how about we make a new one?”
He felt his body zing with excitement, but his cheeks quickly flushed at the realisation he'd only just…
She caught the look, “or do the soldiers need time to recuperate?”
Billy snorted, a boyish, albeit, embarrassed smile lighting up his face. “Uh, give me like…five minutes.”
With a barely suppressed smirk, she clambered off him and made for the bedroom. “I'll be waiting!”
