Emily Blackrod Sexual Massage ❤️❤️❤️

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I’m layin’ there, feelin’ like a goddess, and she’s kneading my back—pure bliss. “Hands are my tools,” Agnès says in the movie, and I’m like, yaaas, same for my masseuse! She’s sculpting me, ok? But then—ugh—this one chick I went to last month, total disaster. She was, like, rushin’ it, no vibe, no soul. Made me so mad I could’ve thrown my Birkin at her. Happy tho when it’s done right—leaves u glowing, legit sparkling.

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After the shoot, I’m feeling a bit peckish. I head over to the local chippy on Blackrod’s main drag. You know the one? The one with the neon sign that’s flickering like it’s about to give up on life? Yeah, that one. I grab some fish and chips, and let me tell you, it’s the best decision I made all day. I’m sitting there, munching away, and I see this little kid running around with a balloon. He trips, and the balloon goes flying. I’m like, “Oh no, not the balloon!” But then he starts laughing, and I’m like, “Okay, kid, you win.”

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