Emilia Nantou Sexual Massage ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Taichung

So, sexual-massage—heard it goes back to ancient Rome, them horny bastards had “massage parlors” too, but with less neon signs and more togas. Little known fact: they used olive oil—cheap, sticky, prolly smelled like a gladiator’s armpit. Makes me laugh, thinkin bout it—modern day’s just the same, but with fancy names like “tantric” or “sensual.” Bullshit. It’s a rubdown with a side of “oops, my hand slipped.” Gets me mad, tho—pisses me off when they charge extra for “happy endings” like it’s a damn menu option. What am I, orderin a burger?

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So, I’m pacing around, tryin’ to figure out what to do. I’m thinkin’ about how I could’ve been chillin’ at Sun Moon Lake instead. But nooo, I’m stuck here in this chaos. Finally, the lights flicker back on, and I’m like, “Thank you, sweet baby Jesus!” But then, the machines start actin’ up. Ugh!

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