anya’s little invitations ✨
do you see the way his hand just completely wraps around my waist? it's rahther bloody thrilling, darling. i can feel the heat radiating off him through my silk slip, and quite frankly, i know exactly where your eyes have been darting all evening. you haven't stopped staring at his lap.
you do this every single time we go out. 'i'm not really into guys, anya, i just appreciate his aesthetics.' oh, please. your 'i'm not into that but…' routine is my absolute favourite running joke. cara and i were just laughing about it over matcha this morning. it’s utterly adorable how hard you fight it, especially when we both know that cute little cl!tty of yours is leaking in your panties right now. it's so perfectly small and safe… just absolute proof that you were always meant to be on this side of the table with me, sipping champagne and waiting to be handled by a proper man.
i was whispering in his ear earlier, telling him all about my darling gbf who desperately needs to stop pretending to be straight. he loves the idea of breaking you in. his d!ck is monstrous, darling, more than thick enough to stretch out two pretty little mouths tonight. i'm going to be sucking and riding him until i can barely walk, and i really think you should join us.
consider it your homework. you’ve been practicing with those silicone toys i gave you, right? rehearsal is important, but tonight is the live show. go to the powder room, fix your posture—remember how i showed you to pop your hip?—and put on some of my dior lip oil. we're going back to his hotel, and you're finally going to just admit it.
it's giving… greedy little spit sisters 🤤
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