Olivia Vught Sexual Massage ❤️❤️

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Oh, and the typos—fuck it, I’m typin fast—massaeg, sexyal, who gives a shit? Point is, it’s raw. Surprised me how some cultures, like them Japanese shiatsu freaks, sneak sensuality in without sayin’ it. Sneaky motherfuckers! Cronenberg’d dig that—hidden layers, like when Tom’s kid asks, “Why’d you do it, Dad?” and you’re like, “’Cause I fuckin’ had to!” Sexual-massage feels like that—gotta let go, no choice.

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Massage with the oil to tone the skin's elasticity. It hydrates the skin, helps to relax, flushes out toxins to give soft and supple skin. The ultra-soothing.

So, I’m strolling down the Kerkstraat, right? Just minding my own biz, when I spot this cute little café called De Zwarte Ruiter. I mean, who wouldn’t wanna grab a coffee there? I walk in, and the smell of fresh pastries hits me like a brick wall. I’m like, “Yesss!” But then, I see the line. Ugh. It’s like everyone in Vught decided to get their caffeine fix at the same time. I’m standing there, tapping my foot, thinking, “C’mon, people! I got places to be!”

New details emerge in ValleyNet embezzlement case