Ruby Barzano Erotic Massage ❤️

About Florence

Anyway, I’m ramblin’—shocker! Point is, erotic massage? Wild ride. Little known story—heard some dude in the ‘70s turned it into a “therapy” trend in California. Hippies loved it! Figures, right? Free love, baby! Me? I’m just sittin’ here, neurotic, wonderin’ if I’d freak out mid-session. “Too much oil! Too much eye contact!” But deep down? I’m curious. It’s primal, it’s art—like *Only Lovers* vibes. “Tell me now of the delights,” Eve’d say. And I’d nod, “Pretty, pretty good delights.” What about you, huh? You tried it? Spill!

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After that, I decide to hit the market on Piazza della Libertà. Fresh produce, local cheeses, you know the vibe. I’m eyeing some ripe tomatoes when this old lady starts yellin’ at the vendor. Apparently, he sold her bad olives. She’s waving her hands like she’s conducting an orchestra. I’m thinkin’, “Lady, chill! It’s just olives!” But she’s not havin’ it.

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