Penelope Murfatlar Erotic Massage ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Exaggeration? Sure—best one I had felt like a bloody dragon was kneading me, scales and all. Probs just a hairy guy, but in my head? Epic. Sarcasm? Oh, please—half these “experts” couldn’t massage a loaf of bread. Still, when it works, it’s gold. Pure, filthy gold. So, yeah, erotic-massage—love it, hate it, crave it. Now sod off, I’m booking one.

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So, we decide to grab some lunch at this place called “La Pădure.” The food? Amazing. I had sarmale that were to die for. But then, the waiter trips and spills a whole plate of food on Alex. I’m dying laughing, but he’s not having it. He’s like, “This is the worst day ever!” I’m like, “C’mon, man, it’s just food!” But he’s sulking, and I can’t help but tease him.

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