Jan 23, 2023
Radio WDIA Has No Taste for Dirty Wax
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Radio WDIA Has No Taste for Dirty Wax
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
Ernest C. Withers. Kids at WDIA. Memphis. 1948
[::SemAp Twitter || SemAp::]
6: Hot Chocolate
“Microwave minutes are longer than regular minutes,” Dean whined as he dumped the chocolate powder into the mug. Cas kissed his cheek.
“Patience, grasshopper.”
“But Caaas—”
“Here,” he interrupted. “Open.” Dean turned on his heel and found himself face to face with him, their noses almost brushing. Cas held up a mini marshmallow. Plump lips parted obediently, and were rewarded by the morsel’s sticky sweetness. Dean hummed at the taste and leaned forward, capturing his lips in a soft, sugared kiss. He always smells like cinnamon, he thought, burying his nose in the soft curve of his neck once they pulled apart. The microwave chimed; they ignored it.
Dirty Disc Jockeys with Smutty Records
“Bee Bee King” on Radio WDIA
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
Radio WDIA - one of the first Black run radio stations in America
Radio WDIA
7: Ice Skating
“I’m not going to let you fall, Cas,” he promised. His mittened hand was clasped firmly around his own. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” he said, taking a steeling breath. Dean kicked his skate into the ice and they started gliding. He locked his knees and kept his feet glued to the ground, choosing to allow Dean’s foot strokes to guide them along the slippery white surface.
“You’re good. You’ve just gotta relax, baby, I’ve got you.” He nodded and allowed his muscles to uncoil the teensiest bit. Dean, still tugging them around, shuffled so he was moving backwards before him, holding both his hands. Slowly, Cas lifted one foot.
Falling. He was falling over. Not good. Not good. Dean, help. “Ah!” Steadying hands grabbed his waist and righted him.
“I’ve gotcha. You aren’t gonna fall.”
“Promise?”
“Of course.”