Katherine Iwakura Erotic Massage ❤️

About Fukuoka

But—fuck—some places piss me off. Dodgy parlors with neon signs screamin’ “massage,” but it’s just a front for sketchy vibes. Had one dude tryin’ to upsell me “extras”—mate, I’m a god, I don’t pay for that! Kicked his table over, stormed out—chaos is my middle name. Still, when it’s good? Oh, Norns, it’s *good*. Skin tinglin’, breath hitchin’, like “there’s something alive in there”—another *Under the Skin* gem. Surprised me how deep it hits—ain’t just horny nonsense, it’s borderline art.

Tantra Ichinomiya

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After that, I decide to stroll down to the Iwakura Park. It’s a nice spot, lots of trees and stuff. I’m just vibin’, when I see this group of kids playin’ soccer. They’re kickin’ the ball around, havin’ a blast. I’m like, “Man, I miss those days.” So, I join in, right? Big mistake. I kick the ball, and it goes straight into a bush. I’m like, “Seriously? I’m not even good at this!”

Enjoy an elegant time at Iwakura's cafe restaurant [DORF]