Mari Naze Sex Escort ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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So, escort—could be protection, could be... *somethin’ else*, wink-wink. Back in the day, I heard this story—some dude in NYC, 80s, hired an escort to crash his ex’s wedding. Ballsy, right? Walks in, arm candy struttin’, and the bride lost her damn mind. True story—or maybe not, who cares, it’s freakin’ hilarious! Point is, escorts ain’t just arm candy—they’re chaos agents, stirrin’ the pot.

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After that, I decide to stroll down Kameyama Street. It’s lined with cute little shops and cafes. I pop into this tiny joint called “Naze Nibbles.” The owner, this sweet old lady, serves me the best matcha latte ever. I’m sipping it, feeling all zen, when I hear this loud crash outside. I rush out, and there’s a guy on a bike, totally wiped out. He’s okay, but his bike? Not so much. I can’t help but laugh. I mean, come on, dude, watch where you’re going!

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