Aria Budapest Ii. Keruelet Sexual Massage ❤️❤️

About Budapest

Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—yep, the short bastard who drinks and knows things. So, sexual-massage, eh? I’m sittin’ here, sippin’ me wine, thinkin’ bout them hands slidin’ over skin, all slow-like, proper sensual, not some rushed tavern tumble. Reminds me of *Amour*—that flick I love, right? Old geezers lovin’ each other, all tender, but it’s heavy, innit? “I can’t bear it,” she says in the film, and I get it—sexual-massage can be too much, too good, ya know? Makes ya feel alive, then bam, ya wanna cry or punch somethin’.

Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still buzzing from it. So, I wake up in my tiny flat on Károlyi Mihály utca, right? The sun’s blasting through the window, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it was NOT chill.