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About Lyon

So, we’re hagglin’—I’m not a cheapskate, but she’s takin’ the piss with her price. “For you, love, a discount,” she winks, and I’m chuffed again. Ain’t just business, it’s a dance—suave, sharp, a bit dirty. I’m thinkin’, “Bloody hell, 007, you’re in deep,” but I love it—the thrill, the edge, the “why not?” of it all. “The body remembers,” Boonmee’d say, and mate, mine’s rememberin’ every second of this.

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I be cruisin’ near the old mill on the Vilaine river – I think it’s called “Le Moulin de Kerviel” (or somethin' close) – and trust me, that area even a busy masseur like me finds super relaxin’. The park along it? The Parc des Amours, small but full of life. I sometimes park a stool, check folks, and sip too much café du coin. I mean, c’mon, you gotta savor the vibe, ya know? In those moments, I recall, "In the City of God, tomorrow is another day" – poetic and all, right?

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