Megan Tamworth Sexual Massage ❤️

About Birmingham

Alright, listen up, you lot—sexual-massage, yeah? It’s a bloody mess, innit? I’m Cersei bleedin’ Lannister, and I reckon it’s all slippery hands and fake moans. Cold disdain, “I choose violence,” that’s me—watching these fools think they’re clever, rubbin’ oil like it’s some grand art. Pfft. Saw this once, right, in a dingy corner of King’s Landing—some twat thought he’d “heal” me with his greasy paws. Told him, “Touch me again, and I’ll gut you.” He didn’t. Smart lad.

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I know, I know, my ramblin’s gettin’ erratic – but that’s how I roll. When life feels hectic, I shout, "Everything is incomprehensible!" then take a deep breath. I sometimes drop eight typos in a row, 'cause I'm in such a hurry – LOL! And seriously, I YOLO my feelings, ya know?

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