Ellie Deleni Erotic Massage ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Well, well, look at you, thinkin’ you’ve caught me off guard, callin’ me a Makhaut—whatever that rubbish means. I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, and I’ll tell ya about this erotic-massage nonsense with all the cold disdain it deserves. Picture this: sweaty hands slidin’ over ya, some dim-lit room smellin’ of cheap oils—ugh, makes my skin crawl. “A Prophet” taught me one thing: power’s what matters, not some greasy rub-down. Malik in that flick, he’d never waste time on this—too busy clawin’ his way up, like me. I’d rather choose violence than let some oaf knead me like dough.

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I was munching away, feeling all happy again. But then, I saw my ex. Ugh. She was with some dude, and they were all lovey-dovey. I mean, come on! Really? In Deleni? Right in front of me? I almost choked on my langos. I had to turn away. Like, why does this stuff always happen to me?

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