Julia Meitingen Whore ❤️❤️

About Leipzig

Once had this chick, right? Masseuse with hands like a freakin angel. She’s rubbin me down, and I’m thinkin, “This is art, man.” Slow strokes, deep presses — got me hard as a rock and floatin at the same time. Little known fact: back in ancient Rome, they’d do this shit with olive oil and a side of orgy. True story! Called it “massage with benefits,” ya dig? Made me happy as a pig in shit, but then — bam! — she charged me double. Pissed me off, man, I was fumin. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I growled in my head, imaginin her boss on a platter.

Eberhard Christoph Balthasar von Danckelmann

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Downtown’s full of surprises. You got parks like Parkplatzpark (yeah, they named it kinda cheekily) where I had one of my best reflective moments, just sittin’ on a bench, watching life pass me by on the river’s edge – the small, whispering Kammelbach river. I’d stroll along its banks – sometimes it feels poetic, sometimes it drives me mad when you realize life’s too short for regrets.

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