Esme Schwedt (oder) Sexual Massage ❤️❤️

About Hamburg

Oh, and the sounds—moans, sighs, bones cracking—music to my ears, a symphony of flesh. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I’d purr, savoring how vulnerable they get, all laid out like a feast. Makes me wanna shoot somethin’, protect that rawness, ya know? Exaggerating? Maybe—but damn, it’s primal, it’s art, it’s a fuckin’ trip. So, next time you’re kneading or being kneaded, think of me—Hannibal, grinning, watching the show. “It’s all happening,” baby—enjoy the rubdown!

There ya go, mate – a mad, rambling, heartfelt glimpse of a city that’s as unpredictable as my love for erratic typos (sorry, my brain juices run like mad – typos: wrogn, happny, and so, awesome, cool, rad, buzzig, awesum, rocked, twsted, lve, mxd, real, thet, buzz, crzy, off, and mate!). Now, off with ye – explore, embrace, and let Schwedt show ya its magic!

Poland and Germany’s poisoned relations over Oder River fish die-off