Emilia Treasure Island Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

Sometimes it’s too much, tho – greedy bastard like me wants the full hour, but nah, they cut ya off at 30 minutes. Infuriating! I’m yellin’ in my head, “Finish the damn job!” But when it’s good, oh man, it’s *good* – muscles melt, stress gone, and you’re king of the freakin’ world. Sarcasm time: “Oh sure, rub my back, make me a sex god” – but hell, it works! Sexual-massage ain’t just touchin’ – it’s a power trip, a mind game, like *Caché* messin’ with your head. “Who’s watchin’ us now?” – I’m laughin’, half-naked, lovin’ every greasy second. Greed is good, baby – grab it all!

You’re Temporarily Blocked

All while pumping my gas I thought to myself, “wow, I wonder if the lots will become the new ‘track’” Not too long before this trip to the gas station I had been at the Imperial Palace for a .

My place, oh boy, it’s tucked in a side alley on Slipstream St. Real hidden gem. Clients rant bout their life woes and I just say, "Get a grip, idiot sandwich!" It’s wild, secret confessions in dim light. Sometimes it's spiritual, sometimes it's bloody ugly. But hey, that's life here.

PHOTOS Treasure Island’s wild new Japanese claw machine arcade is a must-visit