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Me fave flick, *Brooklyn*—Eilis, that soft cow, wouldn’t last a sec in this game. “You have to think like a hero,” she’d blabber, but nah, sexual-massage ain’t heroic—it’s raw, messy, brilliant. I’d kill to see her prissy arse try it, all “oh, Tony, how improper!” Ha! Makes me laugh, picturing her fumbling oils, blushing like a twat. Me? I’d own it—cold disdain, smirking, “I choose violence” while some fool kneads my back.

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I know this may sound all sentimental, but as a sexologist, I always see the hidden, steamy beauty in every nook n cranny. Now, lemme talk about that rad little park—Briarwood Park, y’know? It's a lil’ secret gem! Folks here stroll, laugh, even flirt beneath the towering oaks. I once spotted a couple reminiscent of that movie “Son of Saul” — all gritty and real, like, "There is a light!" in the darkness, ya feel me? I got chills, baby!

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