Audrey Roseto Degli Abruzzi Sexual Massage ❤️❤️❤️

About Bari

So, sexual-massage—wot’s the score? It’s hands roamin’ like me crew after rum, but slower, aye, teasin’. Starts all legit-like—oil, candles, some poor sod’s tense shoulders. Then—BAM—fingers dance where the sun don’t shine, savvy? Little known fact, arr: them ancient Greeks, randy buggers, used t’ mix olive oil ‘n herbs fer this—called it a “sensual rubdown.” Prolly wrestled naked after, knowin’ them! Me, I’d be hollerin’, “This be the trick, mates—t’ steal tension *and* a grin!”

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Clean and spacious rooms, recommend spa path + massage. A real anti-stress cuddle. I recommend the half day especially on a gloomy Sunday day during the winter.

So, we go up, and he opens the box. It’s a margherita, fresh and steamy. The smell hits me like a freight train. I’m drooling, and he’s just munchin’ away. “You want a slice?” he asks. I’m like, “Dude, I’m on the clock!” But inside, I’m screaming, “YES!”

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