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About Rio de Janeiro

Oh, and the oils—sandalwood, jasmine—smells like rock ‘n’ roll and secrets. Pro tip: ask ‘em to skip the lavender—too sleepy, kills the mood. Another story: heard this guy in the ‘70s ran an erotic-massage ring outta his van—called it “The Love Tour.” Cops shut it down, but man, what a legend! Wish I’d met him—woulda shook his hand, said, “You’re stickin’ it to the man!”

Pleasure Massage

Gritty details? Sure thing. The graffiti on Largo das Paixões? I once tripped near them (oops, my bad!) and ended up face-first but laughing so hard, I forgot the pain. Every mark's a cry of rebellion. And yeah, I’ve seen some taboo love acts in alleyways that would make you blush. But hey, the sexologist in me digs every bit of raw humanity.