Ada Balesti Sexual Massage ❤️❤️

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Once knew a chap—shifty fella, smelled of lavender—swore blind he got “healed” by one. Said it sorted his back *and* his soul—bollocks, I reckon! Made me proper cross, tho—why’s he fibbing? Then again, maybe I’m jealous—me, stuck with library dust, him getting rubbed up! *Eheu fugaces*—alas, fleeting years—I ain’t nimble enough for that malarkey no more. Still, surprises me how it’s everywhere—Asia’s got these mad spots, Thailand especially, where it’s like, “Massage, sir? Boom-boom too?”—cheeky sods!

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So, I finally make it to the library, right? And it’s packed. I mean, who knew Balesti had so many bookworms? Kids everywhere, running around like they just discovered sugar. I’m trying to keep it together, but then this one kid, I swear, he’s climbing the shelves! Like, dude, this ain’t a jungle gym! I had to channel my inner librarian ninja to get him down. “Hey, buddy, books are for reading, not for climbing!”