Ella Tegal Erotic Massage ❤️❤️

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“Words are traps,” Godard mumbles in the movie. Same with erotic-massage. They whisper “relax,” but you’re wired, heart poundin’, brain yellin’ *what’s next?* I’d kill for one after a crap day—limpin’ around, patients whinin’. Surprised me how good it feels, tho. Like, *really* good. Better than Vicodin, and that’s sayin’ somethin’. Ever tried it? Don’t lie—everybody does. Sarcasm aside, it’s art—dirty, messy art. Those masseuses? Geniuses or con artists. Probably both.

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Then, outta nowhere, this old dude starts yellin’ at ‘em. “Get down! You’ll break your neck!” I’m thinkin’, “Chill, grandpa. They’re just havin’ fun.” But he’s not havin’ it. I step in, try to calm things down. “Hey, they’re just kids bein’ kids.” He glares at me. I’m like, “Dude, I’m a forester. I know trees.”

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