Sarah Modica Sexual Massage ❤️❤️

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Favorite part? When they hit that lower back, oh man, it’s like “the truth isn’t enough” – ya don’t need words, just groans. Surprised me how good it feels, like I’m floatin’ outta my body, gladiator scars and all. But if they skimp on the oil? Pisses me off! Dry hands? Get outta here, you cheapskate! I’m yellin’, “Don’t you dare lie to me!” like Judge Judy catchin’ a fib. One time, this chick’s hands were shakin’ – rookie move – and I’m thinkin’, “Girl, you’re gonna ruin my vibe!” Total buzzkill.

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So, I’m thinkin’, “Should I check it out?” I mean, I’m a detective, right? But I’m also just a guy tryin’ to enjoy my coffee. But curiosity got the best of me. I stroll over, and this guy’s tryin’ to sell some sketchy art. I’m talkin’ about paintings that look like a toddler went wild with finger paints. I’m like, “Dude, you call that art?” He just shrugs. I’m like, “Whatever, man. You do you.”

Where punk meets Catholicism: Andrea Modica’s portraits of 1980s schoolgirls