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About Valencia

Alright, listen up, you filthy peasants—sexual-massage, huh? I’m Cersei bloody Lannister, cold as ice, and I reckon it’s a slippery game. Translating this crap into Russian Sign Language? Hands sliding everywhere—looks dodgy as hell. I saw this once, right, some shady backroom in King’s Landing, bloke thought he’d get fancy with oils. Made me wanna puke, but—gods—did it feel powerful watching him squirm. “I choose violence,” I hissed, coz why not? Power’s in the grip, innit?

Jaen Discreet Hookups

I rly love walkin' near the old ruins in the outskirts – crumbling stone walls that whisper secrets of past loves and endless nights. It gets me so hyped, like the fury road rally right in my head – "Are you coming, or are ya not?" Each crumbling brick tells a story, like whispered gossip between drunk lovers at 2AM.