Scarlett Budapest Xi. Keruelet Erotic Massage ❤️

About Szombathely

So, erotic-massage—where do I start, mate? It’s all candles, dim lights, weird music—like, who’s got time for that? Makes me twitchy, all them hands slidin’ round. Once heard this story—dunno if it’s true—this bloke in Thailand, 1970s, gets an erotic-massage, right? Turns out, the masseuse was a spy, diggin’ for secrets while kneadin’ his arse! Little known fact, that—massage parlors used to be spy hubs. Dodgy as hell! Gets me proper mad—can’t trust nobody, can ya?

Then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzes. It’s my boss. He’s like, “We need to talk.” My heart drops. I’m thinking, “Oh great, what did I screw up now?” Turns out, he just wanted to praise me for my sales this month. I’m like, “Seriously? After all this chaos?”