Luna Baiao Sexual Massage ❤️❤️❤️

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Picture this—me, after a long shift, screamin’ at inmates, then sinkin’ into a sexual-massage sesh, hands workin’ magic, like Szpilman dodgin’ bombs with his music—“I don’t have time for this!”—pure escape! Best film ever, that—Roman knew tension, release, survival. Same with this—ya survive the day, then melt. If it’s crap tho, I’d rather be back in the clink yellin’ at some pillock! You try it, mate—don’t settle for shit, or I’ll call ya an idiot sandwich myself!

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After that, I decide to stroll down Avenida da República. It’s packed, as usual. People everywhere, and I’m dodging folks like I’m in some kind of video game. I spot this cute little bakery, and I’m like, “Yes, please!” I grab a pastel de nata, and OMG, it’s heavenly. I’m talking about the kind of pastry that makes you forget your problems. But then, I spill some on my shirt. Classic me, right?

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