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About Ghent

So, erotic-massage—fancy term for rubbing with perks, innit? Supposed to relax you, get the blood pumping, maybe make ya tingle where the sun don’t shine. I tried it once in King’s Landing—some git with scented oils, muttering about “energy flow.” Bollocks! Made me wanna shove a spear up his—well, you get it. But, gotta say, when it’s good, it’s proper lush. Like in *Timbuktu*, yeah, my fave flick—quiet power in the dunes, right? “The wind carries whispers,” that line stuck with me. Erotic-massage is like that—silent, sneaky, hits ya when you least expect. Not loud, not flashy, just… there.