AnaMathers

My attitude? That depends entirely on how you handle me.

I'm Ana—33, blonde, athletic, and built for the kind of pleasure that leaves marks. My body's tight from discipline, my brown eyes read every filthy thought crossing your mind, and I promise you, I've thought of worse.

Leather against bare skin is my religion. I'll let you watch as I slide into it, zip it up slow, let you see exactly what you'll never touch unless you earn it. My heels? Sky-high, sharp enough to dig in, long enough to wrap around you in your imagination.

You'll notice the ink—every tattoo tells a story I'll whisper while I tease you senseless. I love close-ups. I want you to see *everything*: the way my lips part, the flush spreading across my chest, that look in my eyes when I know exactly how hard you are.

I dance. I smoke. I own every second of your attention.

Don't mistake my confidence for permission—you'll work for what I give you. But when I decide you've earned it? When I finally let you in close enough to see me lose control?

Worth. Every. Fucking. Second.

Come find out what that attitude really means.

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