souvenir

There is nothing better than lying on a massage table in complete relaxation after a hard day filled with meaningful bloodshed. When your back is being crushed by strong hands, such a seemingly fragile creature. Thoughts slowly leave my head. Zen. Complete relaxation. Every touch sends an electric shock of goosebumps through the body. The hands move along the back, hips and legs, awakening a truly magical pleasure. Dim lights, quiet, calm music, heavenly delight. The pain recedes, replaced by a sharp sense of beauty. The warmth spreads throughout the body. The best massage of all time is only here, only now, only in our basement. Finally, you can let go of everything and surrender to the moment. And how can you not give yourself into these beautiful hands? Has it been a long time since you ended your career as a playboy, millionaire and misanthrope at the peak of popularity? Not everyone can afford their own massage parlor, where they can wrinkle the back so perfectly? Remove all the clamps? Crunch all the bones? The smell of oil, incense, soft music, dim lights, footsteps descending the stairs and the sound of the door opening. There was a cool breeze. — Seriy, did you steal a Thai prostitute?