Mila Sangueesa Sexual Massage ❤️

About Barcelona

I’m obsessed with “The Master,” fam. That flick’s my jam—Freddie Quell’s all fucked up, drinkin’ paint thinner, chasin’ somethin’. Sexual-massage is like that, kinda. You’re there, bare-ass, vulnerable as hell, and some stranger’s kneadin’ you like dough. “You’re safe here,” they say, but are ya? Like Lancaster Dodd whisperin’, “Man is not an animal.” Bullshit—I’m an animal gettin’ rubbed down, fam!

Identification of touch neurons underlying dopaminergic pleasurable touch and sexual receptivity

This book offers a range of views on spolia and appropriation in art and architecture from fourth-century Rome to the late twentieth century.

The city can get maddening. The traffic on Calle Loca is utter chaos. Seriously, it’s like the universe is testing your patience. And sometimes, I find myself cursing the irony—the same streets witness both lovers’ first smiles and bitter breakups. It’s raw, it’s real.