The day my geisha arrives on my doorstep I feel, in a word, geishariffic! At least twice a day my geisha performs this eloquent, high-risk choreographed dance for me. She jumps around, twirls, and throws herself to the floor in beautiful, exquisite movements. I tell her she can stop when I see her getting a little tired. She knows I will be disappointed if she does stop, though. I want more. She continues dancing for about an hour or so. My geisha loves to unwind from her long, hard day of entertaining me by drawing me a warm, soothing bath, adding salts and mixing in exotic fragrances. She improvises a song about my hairy little potbelly. I’ve always been self-conscious about that feature on my body, but hearing it put into song makes me feel special.

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