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About New York City

Alright, listen up, folks! Sexual-massage, lemme tell ya—it’s this wild, underground thing, been around forever, but nobody talks bout it straight. I’m sittin here, thinkin bout “White Material”—that flick, Claire Denis, 2009, my fave, ya know? Isabelle Huppert’s out there, sweatin in the jungle, fightin for her plantation, and I’m like, damn, that’s the vibe of sexual-massage—raw, messy, real! “The coffee’s ours!” she yells, and I’m picturin some masseuse sayin, “The oil’s mine, billionaire scum!” Passionate, raspy voice—Billionaires should not exist! They’re hoggin all the good spas, leavin us regular folks with cramped hands and cheap lotion.

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"Hi guys, I'm an arab fun outgoing boy who loves to have a good time. I will travel to you. I can get into many different scenes depending what gets you off. I am passionate, friendly, and love .

Dude, the vibe on Crescent Blvd is nuts. It’s packed with holes-in-the-wall massage joints, coffee spots, and that dive bar, Big Joe’s, where I grab a brew when work sucks. Now, let me share a brain fart moment: I once massaged a cat owner on Coolio St. and she whispered, “I’m a Serious Man.” Haha, I laughed so hard; I swear I nearly dropped my tools.

Orlo Vista residents want change after flooding from Hurricane Ian