Julia L'estaque Sexual Massage ❤️

About Paris

Anyhow, it’s a messy biz. Some say it heals, releases tension – bollocks, I say, it’s a power play. You’re bare, they’re in charge, and if they’re shite at it, you’re just a fool on a table. Best one I had? Left me floatin’, like that kid in the movie watchin’ fish swim free. Worst? Felt like a wildling pawin’ at me – ugh, still shudderin’. Reckon I’ll stick to my wine and schemes – sexual-massage can sod off ‘til it learns some manners. “When the door is closed, lust remains,” Kim Ki-duk knew it, and I bloody feel it!

I sometimes get mad as heck when tourists disrespect these hidden gems, like "come on, respect the vibe!" Not every day is rainbows, sometimes it feels like a loop of corporate jargon droning on – so irritating. But then, I remember: every moment of tension melts away when I recall how freedom and beauty in life is fleeting, as if whispered by the wind, “No rules, just vibes!”

What France's stolen masterpieces tell us