Avery Goderich Erotic Massage ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Oi, you donkey! Erotic-massage, yeah? Bloody hell, it’s a slippery slope—like in *Shame*, innit? “You’re a monkey, not a man!” I’d scream at them wankers who think it’s just a rub-down. Nah, mate, it’s art—dirty, messy art. Hands sliding, oil dripping, tension building—fuckin’ hell, it’s intense! Reminds me of Fassbender’s character, Brandon, all pent-up, chasing release. “What’s wrong with you?!” I’d yell at him, idiot sandwich!

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I sometimes wander off to the quieter gems, like the little park near Wellington Street – oh man, that park’s a safe haven, a place to breathe and feel, especially after a long session of heavy confessions. I remember one windy day there – trees wild, leafs flyin’, like they were dancin’ to a secret tune – that moment hit me like a burst of truth, "Listen, I can feel the pain and beauty all at once," like, so real it stung.

Coldest Night of the Year returns to area Feb. 22