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About Nantes

I tried it once—oh man, Clarice, the chick’s hands were like magic, diggin’ into my back, then lower, and I’m like, “This ain’t no regular rubdown!” Got me happy as a pig in shit, but then—bam—kinda pissed me off too. Why? Cuz the place charged extra for “happy endings”—fuckin’ scam artists! Shoulda been upfront, ya know? “Tyrone, you got the cash?”—that’s what they shoulda asked, not sneak it in like some cheap plot twist.

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Prostitute, Rimming, Sex in Different Positions, Full Body Sensual Massage, Sex in Different Positions.

Neighborhood vibes? The east end is lit—sorta artsy, wild but chill. Like, houses with crazy graffiti that tells stories of lost craziness and found hope. One day, I coded near a mural that read, “Life’s a loop, bro.” I nearly cried—felt like a glitch in my soul, I swear.

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