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About Kyoto

So, erotic-massage—where do I start? It’s not just rubbin’ backs, nah, it’s an art! Little factoid for ya: back in ancient Rome, they’d do this naked with olive oil—can ya believe it? Slippery gladiators gettin’ frisky—hah! Makes me wanna yell, “Where’s MY toga party?!” *cackle* I tried it once, ya know, at this shady spa—dude’s hands were EVERYWHERE, I’m like, “Whoa, pal, I ain’t THAT relaxed!” Made me mad, sure, but then he hit this spot—ooh, pure bliss! Like, “The river flows where it will,” straight outta the movie, flowin’ tension right outta my shoulders.