Rebecca Ceggia Sex Dating ❤️

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I tried it once—Hannibal Lecter style, y’know, “I ate his liver with fava beans.” Nah, kidding, didn’t eat nobody, but damn, some of these dates? Predator vibes! This one guy—total creep—kept texting “u up?” at 3 a.m. Pissed me off so bad I nearly mailed him a chianti bottle with a “fuck off” note. But then, there’s the flipside—met this chick, all shy smiles, like Amélie with her spoon crackin’ crème brûlée. Made me grin like an idiot. Surprised the hell outta me—sex-dating can be sweet, who knew?

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But then, bam! The first item up is this ancient vase. I mean, it’s older than my grandma! I’m hyped, but then this lady in the front row starts yelling. “That’s a fake! I saw it on the internet!” I’m like, “Lady, chill! This is Ceggia, not a reality show!” But she keeps going. I’m sweating bullets.

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