I mean, what exactly can I write here - or even want to I suppose - about Jessica who I saw before the month was done.
Like, it's JESSICA! Holistic doesn't even begin to cover the basics of the experience here. With Jessica, the relaxing massage is merely a minor capstone compared to the shimmering edifice that she slowly and deliberately builds with the little amount of time she has. It's the denouement that becomes secondary to why you came [heh] to see her.
Things I can write about Jessica? Gorgeous. The Personality. The Smile. The Fit. The Body, So Tight, Just right.
I have no idea if I can talk about the cute cocktail dresses she wears and never mind the just most excellent lingerie she always keeps on [cough]. I should know because I have two pairs of them.
{Yes Jessica, it was me! I took them and I'm not sorry! They keep me warm & happy They're in the drawer beside me in my office right now while I'm working fuckin' zoom calls with waste-of-good-skin-fucktard clients every.single.one of them.}
Cute & sensible GND? Check. Crazed-eyed masseur with the smirky smile? Check. Smells oooohhhh so very nice. Check. Hippy chill relaxed party girl leaning forward giving me that look with (I imagine) beads, highlights in her hair & smoky, hazy air filled with rasta music rumbling in the background while I choke because her necklace fell down my nose? Check. I have absolutely no idea how she knows how to transform into exactly what you didn't know you needed. But she does. Mind boggling magical.
In Xanadu did
A stately pleasure dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight ’twould win me,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk
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