Abigail Gurabo Sexual Massage ❤️❤️

About Carolina

So, lemme spill—sexual-massage ain’t just rubbin’ backs, nah. It’s this ancient thing, like, thousands of years old—think Egypt, with oils and sweaty Pharaohs gettin’ frisky. I read somewhere—prolly on the web while eatin’ pork rinds—that these massages were secret rituals. Priests used ‘em to “connect with gods”—yeah, right, more like connectin’ with somethin’ else, heh! D’oh! Makes me laugh thinkin’ bout it—some dude in a toga, all oiled up, goin’, “Oh yeah, this is spiritual!”

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So, I finally made it to the office on Calle José de Diego. I work as an info worker, which sounds fancy, but really, I just sit in front of a screen all day. But today? Today was different. My boss, Mr. Rivera, was in a mood. He stormed in like he owned the place. “We need results, people!” he yelled. I was like, “Dude, it’s 9 AM. Can’t we have coffee first?” But no, he was on a mission.

Daily Briefing: Cows in neck-high water