Bella Basiglio Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Naples

Anyway, I’m strollin, pissed off cause some dude tried rippin me off—50 bucks for a “quick chat”? Fuck that noise. Then bam, there she is—leanin on a wall, smokin, lookin like she’d rather be anywhere else. “A face with no name,” like Llewyn’d say. I’m happy as shit, tho—found her! Surprised me how easy it clicked, like she knew I wasn’t no cop. “What’s your story, darlin?” I ask, all smooth, Lecter-style. She laughs—dry, sarcastic, “What story, man? This is it.”

Human rights violations in this case

But then, I realize I left my gelato in Marco’s bag! I’m like, “Noooo!” I text him, and he’s like, “Chill, I got it.” I’m like, “You better not eat it!”

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