Megan Rozzano Erotic Massage ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Rome

Now, picture this: dim lights, oil slicker than a politician’s grin, and some poor sap thinkin’ he’s in paradise. “The cosmos is a mechanism,” like they say in *Werckmeister Harmonies*—all orderly ‘til it ain’t. Erotic-massage is that chaos creepin’ in, a slow unravelin’. Hands kneadin’ flesh, tension buildin’—it’s art, sure, but dangerous art. I reckon it’s like cookin’ a fine meal—too much heat, and ya ruin the dish. I ate his liver with fava beans, y’know, and lemme tell ya, that’s less messy than some massage mishaps I’ve heard of.

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Watch A lady with a sturdy body that is easy to massage seems a little hesitant at first, but she surrenders to the onslaught of erotic massage with a cheer!? She keeps cumming with a Missing: Rozzano.

Then I head over to the park, Parco della Resistenza. It’s a nice spot, but today? Ugh. Kids everywhere, screaming like they’re auditioning for a horror movie. I’m just trying to enjoy my coffee, but nooo, it’s like a mini war zone. I’m dodging soccer balls and scooters. I mean, come on! Can’t a guy catch a break?

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