Megan Hawkesbury Erotic Massage ❤️

About Toronto

Well shoot, y’all, erotic-massage! Ain’t that a hoot? Me, George W., I’m thinkin’—it’s like Mulholland Drive, all twisty and steamy. Ya get them hands slippin’ ‘round, makin’ ya go, “What’s real here?” Fool me once, shame on—uh—me, fool me twice, well, we ain’t gonna be fooled again! I reckon it’s relaxin’, sure, but dang—some folks get all riled up over it. Like, who’s rubbin’ who, ya know?

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I gotta say, Hawkesbury ain’t perfect. Sometimes traffic on Oak St, screw me, makes me mad. And the winter? Bleh, as bleak as a Melancholia scene. But each spot, each alley, each dingy corner tells a story. I recall a day, drizzly as ever, when my best client, Tanya, told me, “The world crumbles, but we keep going.” It hit me hard. Cold. Calculated. Real talk.

Hawkesbury’s Trudeau commits NCAA Nichols College