Emily Reze Sexual Massage ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Montpellier

Ayy, Gabagool? Ova here! So, sexual-massage, huh? Lemme tell ya, it’s a freakin’ trip. I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout it, like Llewyn Davis strummin’ his damn guitar – “I don’t see a lotta money here!” – ‘cept this ain’t no folk song, it’s hands-on, real intimate shit. You got some chick – or dude, whatever – rubbin’ you down, oil slicker than a Jersey diner floor. It’s supposed ta relax ya, but half the time I’m like, “What’s this broad’s deal?” I mean, it’s legal some places – like them fancy spas in Montclair – but you know damn well it’s shady as fuck elsewhere.

Ursprung und Definition der Happy End Massage

After that chaos, I decide to treat myself. I hit up this little bistro on Rue de la Mairie. I order a burger, and it’s massive! I’m talking two patties, cheese, the works. I take a bite, and it’s like heaven. I’m in my happy place, just munching away, when my phone buzzes. It’s my boss. “We need to talk about your performance.” Ugh, can’t a guy enjoy a burger in peace?

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