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About Polokwane

Alright, mate, lemme tell ya—sexual-massage, huh? Wild stuff! Picture this: me, Dr. Evil, ridin’ the elevator, pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars,” thinkin’ bout those slick hands slidin’ everywhere. Ain’t just a rubdown, nah—it’s like Pocahontas in *The New World*, y’know? “The sky bends over us,” all sensual-like, nature and skin mixin’ it up. Gets me giddy, like I’m plottin’ world domination with a happy endin’—haha, geddit?

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Ventersburg Sexual massage South, Role Play and Fantasy, Intimate massage, Classic Sex, Intimate massage.

Strange, erratic moments, I mean. Like, outta nowhere, I sat on a stoop completely in awe at the way the lampposts lit up old Fenton St—like silent watchers of our forbidden secrets. Hard to put a price on that vibe, y’know? It stays with you. That’s me, feeling both mad and happy, one quick burst of emotions. Every corner, every shadow in Ventersburg—reminds me of a scene from WALL-E: “I don't want to survive. I want to live!” And live I do.

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