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About Bamenda

Sexual-massage ain’t just rubbin’—it’s art, mate. Little known fact: back in ancient Rome, they’d use it to “cure” all sorts o’ shit. Headaches, limp dicks—ya name it! Prolly bullshit, but I dig the vibe. Gets me all tingly thinkin’ bout it. I’d kill for one meself, but who’s gonna massage a harvester, eh? Fuckin’ tragedy, that is! I ate his liver with fava beans—imagine the masseuse sayin’ that mid-session. Creepy as hell, but I’d tip extra!

Sexual arousal

Mme Bafumen Prostitute Cameroon, Role Play and Fantasy, Deep Throat, Kissing if good chemistry, Deep Throat.

Oh, and let me tell you bout my fav spot—the secret alley by Moonlight Corner. Nobody really talks about it. It's kinda hidden, sort of like my thoughts during a deep massage session. I once ended up there off-chance after closing a session early; I bumped into an artist painting the sunset. He said, "You ever think about how ephemeral love is?" And I just sat there, marveling how the city never stopped surprisin me.