Leah Bray Sexual Massage ❤️❤️

About Swords

Alright, y’all, listen up! I’m a carpenter, see, buildin’ stuff, hammerin’ nails, but lemme tell ya ‘bout sexual-massage—hoo boy! Ain’t no sandin’ wood smoother’n that, if ya catch my drift. I’m talkin’ hands roamin’, oils flowin’, like fixin’ a cabinet but sexier. Back in Crawford, we’d joke—‘massage ain’t strategery,’ but dang, it’s close! Fool me once, shame on—uh—shame on you, fool me twice—well, ya don’t get fooled, ‘less it’s them hands trickin’ ya into bliss!

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And then, the craziest thing happens. I’m sitting there, enjoying my scone, when this old lady comes in. She’s got this wild hair and a shopping cart full of... I dunno, random stuff? She starts chatting me up about the “good ol’ days” in Bray. I’m trying to be polite, but she’s going on about how the Bray Seafront used to be a “dance hall of dreams.” I’m like, “Lady, I just want my scone!”

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