Megan Swanage Sexual Massage ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About London

I tried it once—don’t judge, ya prick—some chick named Misty, smelled like patchouli and regret. Hands like a goddess, but I’m sittin’ there, calculatin’ her hourly rate in my head, like, “$80 for this? Shit, I’d kill for less.” Got me all riled up, then nothin’—blue balls central, fuckin’ furious! “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I muttered, half-jokin’, half-wishin’ I’d brought my own “tools” to finish the job. Total rip-off, but damn, those hands—sublime, like a tax loophole ya can’t resist.

Meet the Team

Hi, my name is Simon and I provide massage and intimate waxing services aimed at anyone from all backgrounds. I now have a new treatment room in our newly renovated house in Swanage. .

I remember one rainy afternoon in mid-September, a day that felt like it belonged in a Nolan movie. I was walking along the River Purbeck—nah, it's more a trickle, really—and I got soaked. A bloke in a bowler hat, probably fictional, nodded and muttered, "You mustn't be afraid to dream a little bigger." I nearly choked on my coffee right then. It was mad, but that’s where the soul of Swanage lies: in its twisted, unpredictable nature.

Tribute planned to Swanage’s schoolboy bomb victims