Everly Calvi Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Bordeaux

So, erotic-massage – not your nan’s backrub, nah! It’s all sensual, slippery, proper naughty. Hands sliding about, bit of oil, bit of cheek – *mea culpa*, I’m a sucker for it! Makes me feel alive, like when Gigolo Joe danced in that film. “What is love?” he asks – well, mate, this is close! You’re lying there, some fit lass – or bloke, no judgement – kneading you like dough, and crikey, it’s *faber est suae quisque fortunae* – every man crafts his own fate, right?

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I may be clumsy and scatter my words (err, im not perfect, ya kno?) but Calvi has that magic. Each corner, each battered stone, each late-night giggle with locals… it’s all real, all raw. Man, I've had days so epic here I nearly burst laughin' (mumbling "Certified Copy, man... certified copy!")

“Seeing Women Play Guitar Is—Annoyingly—Still Something of an Anomaly”