Sienna Alexandria Erotic Massage ❤️❤️

About Sao Paulo

It’s all slow, tho, like *Turin Horse*—no rush, just vibes. “Everything’s gone to ruin,” that’s another line—feels like my back before the massage, all knotted up like a pretzel on crack. Then them hands hit ya—BAM!—and it’s like, “Oh shit, I’m alive!” Sometimes I’m layin’ there, thinkin’—is this legal? Is this porn? Nah, it’s art, baby! Art! Like Tarr’s long-ass shots, but with more moaning. Pro tip: don’t fart durin’ it—learned that the hard way, fam. Stank up the room, masseuse gave me the death stare—SURPRISED me how quick she flipped from zen to “get the fuck out!”

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Yo, there’s also that hole-in-the-wall spot, Café do Amanhecer, on Rua dos Sonhos. It’s underrated but my go-to when I need a quiet moment to think about life’s pleasures. I’d sip a bitter espresso, watch joggers and old-timers chattin’ about the good old days, and think, "Man, life's too short for perfect lines and neat corners."

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