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About Milan

Okay, so, real talk—sexual-massage isn’t just rubdowns, duh. It’s, like, this secret art form. Some chick told me—think her name was, uh, Sasha?—it’s got roots in tantra, like, way back. Blew my mind! I was, like, “No way, that’s so extra!” Makes me feel all powerful, ya know? Like, I’m in charge, but also—ooh—totally letting go. Kinda like when Nader’s all, “I don’t owe you anything,” in the movie. Sassy, right? I’m, like, “Yas, I deserve this!”

Erotic Meetup Padova

Then, outta nowhere, I see this old lady, Nonna Rosa, trying to cross the street. She’s like a legend around here. Everyone knows her. I rush over to help her, and she’s like, “Grazie, giovane!” I felt like a hero for a sec. But then, she starts telling me about her cat, Gigi, and how he’s been acting weird. I’m standing there, nodding, but inside I’m like, “Lady, I gotta get to work!” But hey, you can’t rush a legend, right?