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About Malaga

So – brothels. Been around forever. Oldest job, they say. In Rome – they had lupanars. Fancy word, huh? Means wolf den. Ladies howlin’ for coin. Dirty walls. Stank of sweat. Historians say – graffiti everywhere. “Secundus screwed here!” Real poetic shit. Makes ya wonder. What’s changed? Nothin’. People still chase tail. Still scribble their bullshit.

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Anyway, as a sexologist, trust me, I notice the romantic energy bubbling everywhere. Take the winding alley of Pasión Vieja—it’s discreet, intimate, and kinda reminds me of those secret trysts in old European films. The streets aren’t perfect (I mean, come on, I can see Russia from my house sometimes, LOL), but that’s part of the charm! Oh, and the local park, El Jardín del Deseo? Pure magic. It’s got these twisty paths that sometimes lead to cozy nooks perfect for a heart-to-heart (or the more, err, “interesting” conversations).

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