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About Naples

Oi, mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” So, brothel, yeah? Been thinkin’ bout it, and I reckon it’s a wild gig. Picture this: dusty streets, like in *Timbuktu*, that flick I bloody love—Abderrahmane Sissako, 2014, pure genius. “The wind carries the sand,” right? Same vibe, but swap sand for secrets in a brothel. Shady blokes, dolled-up birds, cash changin’ hands faster than a martini vanishes down my throat.

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Nicastro Brothel Italy, Rimming, Anal Sex (depends on the size), Full Body Sensual Massage, Anal Sex (depends on the size).

Finally, my food comes, and it’s glorious. I dig in, and it’s like a flavor explosion. I’m in heaven. But then, I spill sauce on my shirt. Classic me, right? I’m like, “Great, now I look like a mess.”

Lamezia in Autumn - Beer Festival