Esme Budapest Xxi. Keruelet Sexual Massage ❤️

About Budapest

So, sexual-massage—it’s this wild mix, right? Hands slidin’, oils drippin’, and I’m like, “Is this allowed to feel *this* good?” I get happy—oh, so happy—when they hit that spot, y’know, the one you didn’t even know was screamin’. But then—anger! Some bozo therapist goes too fast, like, “Slow down, pal, this ain’t a race!” I’m payin’ for the full hour, not a sprint! Surprised me once—didja know in ancient Rome, they had these “massage parlors” too? Rich dudes gettin’ oiled up by slaves—wild, right? True story, look it up.

So, I drag myself outta bed, throw on some clothes, and head out. The streets of XXI. kerület are buzzing, as usual. I pass by the local market on Kossuth, and it’s packed. Like, people everywhere. I’m dodging grannies with their shopping carts like I’m in some kind of obstacle course.