Aaliyah Creswell Sexual Massage ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Birmingham

Ey, Gabagool? Ova here! So, sexual-massage, huh? Lemme tell ya, it’s a freakin’ trip! I’m sittin’ here, thinkin’ bout it, like that kid David from *A.I.*, y’know? “I’m real, I’m real!” – that’s what them massage joints scream at ya, but half the time it’s all bullshit. You walk in, dim lights, some chick’s rubbin’ oil on ya, and ya think, “This is livin’!” – but then, bam, ya realize it’s a front for somethin’ else. Made me mad as hell once, got duped in Atlantic City. Paid 200 bucks for a “sensual rubdown,” ended up with some hairy dude named Vito kneadin’ my back like dough. Fuckin’ disgrace!

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Finally, I get my drink, and it’s lukewarm. I’m like, “Seriously? This is what I waited for?” I take a sip, and it’s like drinking disappointment. I’m fuming now. I storm out, and as I’m leaving, I bump into this lovely old lady. She’s got this massive bag of shopping from the Co-op on Station Road. She’s all smiles, and I’m like, “How can you be so happy?” She just chuckles and says, “Life’s too short to be grumpy, dear.” I mean, she’s not wrong, but c’mon!

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