Ava Bailey Sexual Massage ❤️

About San Diego

But blimey, what gets me goat? Them stuck-up twats judgin it! “Ooh, it’s improper!” Bollocks to that—makes me wanna hurl me whiskey glass. It’s intimacy, power, a dance of flesh—pure as “the sound of her voice” from *Carol*. Gets me all misty-eyed, it does. Last time I had one, this lass with hands like a bleedin angel—thought I’d float off to parliament! Exaggeratin? Maybe, but sod it, felt like conquerin Europe!

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Her massage pressure was really unexpectedly good. She worked all the muscles of my body professionally, without any sensual touching at all.

I must say, some days make me super pissed—like when tourists don’t get the local lingo or smash up a historic café on Elm (damn it, respect the heritage!). But honestly, Bailey’s charm is in its quirks, ya feel me? Every corner tells a story, even when I’m running a spa and trying to keep things zen in a crazy world.

Every Night at 8:45 P.M. Dog Asks One Thing of His Family