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About Dallas

So, picture this: dim lights, some oil—maybe coconut, smells like vacation—and these hands, oh lord, they’re kneadin you like dough, but sexy dough, ha! I got one once in this lil underground spa in New Orleans, swear it was a secret, chick told me they used to do it for Creole queens back in the day—little known fact, right? Made me feel like royalty, I was hollerin, “Yes, Lawd, YES!” Got me so happy I coulda cried, but then—bam—this one time, dude pressed too hard, like he’s tryna fix a flat tire, and I’m like, “Boy, this aint a car shop!” Made me mad as hell, I ain’t payin for that mess.