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About Los Angeles

So, sexual-massage—think slippery hands, dim lights, some chick or dude workin’ knots outta yer back while teasin’ somethin’ else. It’s legit therapy, sure, but with a naughty twist. I got into it years back—Wall Street stress, ya know? Needed to unwind. Found this underground joint in NYC, cash only, no questions. Girl’s hands were magic, like she knew every nerve endin’. Made me happy as hell—tension gone, blood pumpin’! But then—boom—anger hit. She stopped right at the edge, smirkin’, like, “Pay extra, big shot.” Greed, man, hers and mine, clashin’!

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And ya gotta peep River Bend, a chill place by the creek. Man, that river flows smooth, babbling like old memories. I once met this quirky old dude there who said, “Time is just a lover’s lap, brother,” and I almost lost it – so deep, so real, like my own ritual of lovin’ life and sex.

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