Abigail Budapest Ii. Keruelet Whore ❤️

About Szombathely

Once, this chick, total pro, told me – ancient shit, erotic-massage is. Egypt, Greece, thousands of years, crazy huh? Priests, they’d bless with oil, slippery stuff. Made me laugh, picturin’ holy dudes kneadin’ ass! But serious, it’s skill, not just sexy-time. Muscles loosen, stress fucks off – gone! “Do or do not, there is no try,” I say. Half-assed massage? Waste of time, pisses me off.

Finally, I make it to the Buda side, and I’m feeling a bit better. I sit on a bench near the Fisherman’s Bastion, and I just breathe. The sunset is gorgeous, and I’m thinking, “This is why I love Budapest.” But then, I hear this loud music. It’s coming from a nearby bar. I look over, and there’s a bunch of people dancing like they’re at a rave. I’m like, “Dude, it’s a Wednesday!”