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Alright, so I’m the Master of the Forest, huh? Picture me, Dr. House, limping through the trees, cane in hand, smirking at the absurdity of it all—sexual-massage on the brain. Everybody lies, right? They’ll tell ya it’s just “relaxation,” but nah, we know better. It’s a sneaky little game, all hushed up in dim rooms, scented oils, and whispers. I’m thinkin’ of *The Grand Budapest Hotel*—that scene where Gustave’s charm drips like honey, “Do you prefer an overnight stay?” Ha! Sexual-massage is the same vibe—fancy pretense, but it’s raw underneath.

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Two kinky hot women Christie Stevens and Lana Rhoades munching each others pussies after massage on the table.

As the day goes on, I hit up a little trattoria. I order some pasta, and it’s like a party in my mouth. I’m talkin’ about the kind of pasta that makes you wanna dance. But then, I see a rat scurryin’ across the floor. I’m like, “Nope! Not today!” I’m outta there faster than a deer in the woods.

Obituary for Lana Kay Stahl-McDonough