Lydia Gladstone Park Erotic Massage ❤️

About Newcastle

So, erotic-massage – cor, what a lark! It’s all handsy, slippery, proper *quid pro quo* stuff – you give, you get, innit? I got dragged into one once, some dodgy spa in Soho, mate swore it’d fix me back – bloody hell, did it! Bloke’s hands were everywhere, like a bleedin’ octopus, and I’m there, red-faced, mutterin’ “stiff upper lip, Boris, stiff upper lip!” Made me happy as a pig in muck, though – tension gone, shoulders loose, felt like I could wrestle a bull. Or shag one, if I’m honest, *mea culpa*! Little known fact, right – them ancient Greeks, they were mad for it! Called it *anatripsis*, posh word for rubbin’ down athletes after a scrap – oiled up, starkers, proper homoerotic vibes. Bet Plato copped a feel or two, eh?

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The woman didn't speak much English. She was Asian of some sort, and started me face down, and did some weird disjointed thing on my back and shoulders.

It flowed like a ticking bomb.

Police investigating after sexually explicit, AI-generated images of female students at Gladstone Park Secondary College shared online