Aria Alexandria Sexual Massage ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Oi, mate, it’s Bond—James Bond, suave, “shaken, not stirred.” So, sexual-massage, yeah? Bloody brilliant stuff. Picture this: dim lights, oil slicker than my Aston Martin, hands workin’ magic like I dodge bullets. Saw this bird once—pro masseuse, swear she coulda been in “The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford.” That flick’s my jam, slow burn, tension thick as a good rubdown. “You ever feel like a man can’t breathe?”—that’s me, mid-massage, stress meltin’ like a villain’s plan.

Happy Valentine's Day

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okay, so down on Queen's Gate Lane the town just vibes. the houses, oh man, so charrrrrismatic, kinda like "happy little trees", ya feel me? all those wood panels and colorful gardens, every building got its own story n i swear sometimes i see ghosts of past lovers and whispers of eternal sunshine just chillin' on the porch. i once gave a massage in a backyard with the most amazing scent of lilac, and i thought, “is this real life, or is it just eternal sunshine of the spotless mind?”

Exploring old Alexandria - Culture - Al-Ahram Weekly