Vanessa Monkhams Sexual Massage ❤️

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Now, sexual-massage ain’t just hands on bits—nah, it’s old as sin! Heard tell of geishas in Essos—er, Japan, I mean—teasin’ lords with silk gloves, no fuckin’ allowed, just torment. Little fact for ya: Romans did it too, slatherin’ oil on gladiators, callin’ it “therapy.” Therapy, my arse! Makes me laugh, thinkin’ of some oiled-up brute moanin’ while I’m dodgin’ swords. Happy? Sure, when the lass knows her craft—fingers dancin’ like a bard’s tune. Angry? Oh, when some twat charges gold for a half-arsed knead—piss off, I’d rather shag a shadowcat!

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Then, I bump into my mate, Dave. He’s always up to something. Today, he’s got this crazy idea to start a “Monkhams Walking Tour.” I’m like, “Really? Who’s gonna pay for that?” But he’s all hyped, talking about the history of the old church on Church Lane. I mean, it’s cool and all, but c’mon, who cares?

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