Abigail Great Missenden Sexual Massage ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Oi, mate, it’s me, Tyrion Lannister—yep, the witty dwarf who drinks and knows things. So, here I am, your bloody Mountain Guide, trudging through peaks and valleys, and you wanna talk sexual-massage? Ha! I’ve seen weirder shit atop these cliffs, trust me. Picture this: sweaty hands, oiled-up backs, and me sipping wine, judging it all. Reminds me of *Far From Heaven*—you know, my fave flick, Todd Haynes, 2002. That line, “I’m going to have a party,” hits different when you’re kneading someone’s arse, right?

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So, I hop on my bike, zooming down Church Street. I’m feeling the wind in my hair, thinking I’m some kind of movie star. Then BAM! I hit a pothole. Like, seriously? Who’s in charge of these roads? I swear, I almost flew off my bike. I’m cursing like a sailor, and this old lady gives me the dirtiest look. Chill, lady! It’s not like I planned to hit a crater!

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