Anastasia Wuustwezel Erotic Massage ❤️

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Oi mate, so I’m the prison warden, yeah? James Bond style – suave, “shaken, not stirred.” Got this gig lockin’ up blokes, but let’s chat erotic-massage, alright? Picture this – dim lights, oils slicin’ over skin, hands movin’ like they’re dodgin’ bullets. Reminds me of *The Assassin* – my fave flick, Hou Hsiao-hsien, 2015. That slow, deadly grace, “a blade in the shadows,” y’know? Erotic-massage got that vibe – subtle, but packs a punch.

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I remember this one time, on a muggy summer evening, I was strollin’ near the Sint-Martinus Church area (yeah, don't get me started on the onion dome, it's pretty dramatic) when I bumped into an old mate who ranted about how “everything’s meaningless,” quoting Yi Yi for no damn reason. I thought, “Dude, even the church looks bored.” Eh, who cares? At least it's real.

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