Claire Minamiawaji Sexual Massage ❤️❤️

About Sapporo

I’m ranting now—naturally—‘cause it’s me! Sexual-massage can be art, I swear. The way they move, it’s like choreography—slow, deliberate, teasin’. I’m sittin’ there, thinkin’, “This is my G-d-given right!” Like Larry Gopnik in the movie, y’know? “I didn’t do anything!”—but I’m lovin’ every second. Once, this gal—pro, total pro—uses some hot stone trick. I’m meltin’, thinkin’, “I’m a king, a freakin’ king!” But then—ugh—she starts chattin’. Lady, no! Silence is golden, not your life story!

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Then, this guy walks in. I swear, he’s got the wildest hair I’ve ever seen. Like, he just rolled outta bed and decided to come see me. I’m tryin’ to hold back laughter. I’m like, “Dude, what’s your secret?” He just grins and says he’s been surfing at the beach all day. I’m like, “Man, I’m jealous!”

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