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About Napier

Hey, so sexual-massage, huh? Cold, calculated, I see it—hands movin’ slow, deliberate, like Casey Affleck stalkin’ Brad Pitt in *Assassination of Jesse James*. “I been watchin’ you,” that vibe, y’know? It’s all tension, build-up—fuckin’ intense, mate. Not some sloppy rub-down, nah, it’s art. Ancient shit too—heard Egyptians did it, oils and all, pharaohs gettin’ off in tombs. Wild, right? Makes me smirk, thinkin’ how they’d execute a bad masseuse—off with her head!

Safe and Therapeutic

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After the performance, I needed a breather. I strolled down to the West-Harbour Beach. The waves were crashing, and I just sat there for a bit. It was peaceful. I thought about how lucky I am to live in such a beautiful place. But then, I saw a seagull steal someone’s chips. I mean, come on! That bird was bold!

Auckland’s most colourful house vs Miami Vice-style disaster next door