If I weren’t from Oz and booked your listing, Poppy, I would think it very nice I am sure but would likely be disappointed. In my head, I only imagine a Spanish type sprawling castle perched on a cliff by the sea, my hair windswept as my bosom heaves within my whale boned corset as I stroll the grounds with a lit candle, calling out for my lover. His name is Arturo.
Or something like that.
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