Willow Eggesin Sexual Massage ❤️

About Dusseldorf

I’m gettin’ worked up—happy, sure, ‘cause who doesn’t love a good story? But angry too—why’s this gotta be so hush-hush? Everyone’s actin’ like it’s a secret society! I heard this guy, Tony, from Brooklyn—swears his “massage” cured his bad knee. Bullshit! I’m callin’ it—exaggeratin’ for drama, but I’d buy it for the laugh. “A ghost joined me,” he says, straight outta Boonmee! “It knew my past lives!” Tony, you’re nuts, but I’m jealous—my massage’d just be awkward silence.

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Thou wilt find many a park—Miniwald Park, forsooth—with benches for deep confabulations. I beheld lovers on rusted swings laughing amid fallen leaves, their secrets as raw as steel. O, how that brought mirth to mine heart, though I oft got mad at bureaucrats makin’ rules—srsly, why not let passion run free?

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