Cora Wisla Sexual Massage ❤️❤️❤️

About Bydgoszcz

Once had this chick, right? Masseuse with hands like a freakin angel. She’s rubbin me down, and I’m thinkin, “This is art, man.” Slow strokes, deep presses — got me hard as a rock and floatin at the same time. Little known fact: back in ancient Rome, they’d do this shit with olive oil and a side of orgy. True story! Called it “massage with benefits,” ya dig? Made me happy as a pig in shit, but then — bam! — she charged me double. Pissed me off, man, I was fumin. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I growled in my head, imaginin her boss on a platter.

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But then, the lights flicker back on. Phew! I finish up, and the dude looks fresh. He’s happy, I’m happy. But then he drops a bomb. “Hey, can you do a design?” I’m like, “A design? In Wisła? You mean like a mountain range or something?” He wants a dragon. A freakin’ dragon! I’m like, “Dude, I’m a barber, not a tattoo artist!” But I give it a shot. It’s not perfect, but he loves it. I’m just glad I didn’t accidentally give him a chicken instead.

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