Anna Gaigeturi Whore ❤️

About Busan

Sometimes I’m layin there, thinkin—am I weird? Nah, just human, cravin touch. Gets sloppy, oil everywhere, slippery as fuck—hilarious. Masseuse prolly thinks I’m a nutcase, gruntin like Vader. “This is my past,” Boonmee says. Past aches, present rubs—connects, ya know? Exaggeratin? Maybe. But damn, it’s intense—knees shakin, soul floatin. Try it, dude, don’t knock it. Sexual-massage—dark, wild, fuckin beautiful. *heavy breathing* I am your father.

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Then, I’m walking down the street, munching on my overpriced strawberries, when I hear this sick guitar riff. I follow the sound, and it leads me to this little alley off of Dongguk-ro. There’s this kid, maybe 16, shredding like a pro. I’m blown away! I’m like, “Yo, you’re amazing!” He looks up, all shy, and says, “Thanks, but I’m just practicing.” Just practicing? Nah, man, you’re a rockstar in the making!