Savannah Lindsdal Sexual Massage ❤️

About Vasteras

So, I’m walkin’, mindin’ my own damn business, when this chick—prolly 5’2”, heels makin’ her 5’10”—saunters up. “Hey, big guy, need company?” she purrs. I’m thinkin’, lady, I’d rather skin a bear with a spoon. “I don’t pay for that,” I grunt, deadpan as hell. She laughs, like I’m some chump. Pisses me off. Hate everything about it—fake giggles, cheap perfume stingin’ my nose. Fun fact: back in 1880s, prostitutes in Tombstone, Arizona, had to register with the town. Called ‘em “soiled doves.” Ain’t that poetic? Still stinks like desperation.

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The massage includes intimate arousing touch which gradually intensifies in erotic sensation until reaching a climax if you wish. I will then bring you to a relaxed state with some head massage.

First off, I’m driving down Storgatan, and boom! Traffic jam. Like, what’s up with that? It’s a Tuesday, people! I’m stuck behind this old dude in a rusty Volvo. He’s going 20 in a 50 zone. I’m losing my mind. I’m like, “C’mon, man! We got places to be!”