Emilia Dalmine Sexual Massage ❤️

About Bologna

Yo, so sexual-massage, right? It’s wild, man. Like, you’re layin’ there, oiled up, somebody’s hands just—boom—rubbin’ you down. I’m talkin’ ‘bout that deep-tissue vibe, but sexy, ya know? Watched “Spirited Away” again last night—Chihiro’s runnin’ round, lost as hell, and I’m thinkin’, “This is me gettin’ a sexual-massage!” Confused, sweaty, but lowkey lovin’ it.

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After that, I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy, so I head over to Via Garibaldi. There’s this little gelato shop that’s to die for. I order a scoop of pistachio, and it’s like heaven in a cup. But then, I see this guy drop his gelato. Like, come on, man! I feel his pain. I mean, I’d cry too. So, I offer him a bite of mine. He looks at me like I’m a saint or something. I’m just trying to be nice, but I’m also thinking, “Dude, don’t get too comfy. This is MY gelato.”

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