Layla Carlentini Erotic Massage ❤️❤️

About Milan

Hi-ho! Kermit the Frog here! So, erotic-massage, huh? Man, what a trip! I’m a merchandiser, ya know, sellin’ stuff, movin’ product. But this? This ain’t no piggy bank sale! Erotic-massage is wild, like—whoa—touchin’ with purpose, ya dig? I mean, it’s all sensual, slippery, oiled-up vibes. Reminds me of *Before Sunset*—that slow burn, ya know? “Time is a lie,” Jesse says, and dang, when yer kneadin’ someone’s back with that spicy intent, time just melts! Poof! Gone!

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So, we hit up the bar on Piazza della Repubblica. I order a granita, and Marco gets a beer. We sit outside, soaking in the vibe. The sun’s setting, and the sky’s all orange and pink. It’s beautiful, man. Makes you forget about the fake money and the annoying dude from earlier.

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