Hannah Kemsing Sexual Massage ❤️

About Glasgow

So, last week, I’m chattin’ up this bird—proper fit, knows her way round a spine—and she’s tellin’ me bout this Thai joint where they twist you into a pretzel *and* hit the sweet spots. Got me all tingly, thinkin’ bout it. “Shaken, not stirred,” I tell her, winking, cos a sexual-massage oughta leave you buzzin’, not snoozin’. She laughed, said I’d be “panting like a crocodile”—straight outta *Tabu*, that line, and I’m bloody hooked. Loved it. Made me happy as a pig in shit.

How long the massage will go for?

Finally, I get to the office on The Green, and I’m ready to dive into spreadsheets. But nooo, my boss decides today’s the day for a surprise audit. Great. Just what I needed. I’m sweating bullets, trying to find receipts from last year. I mean, who keeps those? Not me!

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