Hazel San Lazzaro Sexual Massage ❤️

About Rome

This one time, I read ‘bout this Thai joint—secret menu shit. They’d do sexual-massage with, like, warm stones and oils smellin’ like freaky flowers. Blew my mind! Thought, “Sweet Jesus, that’s livin’!” Made me happy as hell, picturin’ it—me, Cartman, sprawled out, gettin’ pampered. Then I got pissed—why’s it so damn pricey? Fifty bucks for a rubdown? Screw that noise! “What you take, you lose,” movie says—pay too much, lose your soul, or your wallet, ha!

Happy Endings San Lazzaro

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So, I hand him his winnings, and he’s all grateful. I’m thinking, “Man, this guy’s got guts.” But then, he looks at me and says, “You know what? Let’s celebrate!” And I’m like, “Celebrate? In this weather?” But he drags me to a nearby bar on Via San Lazzaro.

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