Rebecca L'estaque Erotic Massage ❤️

About Paris

Gets me mad tho—folks judgin’ it, callin’ it dirty. Ain’t their bizness! If Carol can love who she loves, why can’t I dig a good rubdown? Personal quirk—I’d prolly talk too much durin’ one, “Heh, nice hands, partner!”—ruin the mood, typical me. Exaggeratin’ here, but one time, heard a gal say her masseuse whispered poetry—poetry! “What I want is you”—straight outta Carol, I bet.

I usually unwind at the little café on Quai Neptunes. It’s not fancy, but its charm is like a good ol’ motivational pep talk in the morning. Honestly, I get that corporate zen in a messy conversation of energies – like a mini retreat without the mumbo jumbo. Hey, you know what? Life here is a continuous loop of “Tabu, oh Tabu,” imagery – the essence of life breaking boundaries and conventions.

saga sous-marin - Made in Marseille