Makayla Suhr Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Lucerne

Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m chuffed for a good whore story. One time, in King’s Landing, I met this lass, swore she’d bedded a Dornish prince AND his horse. Laughed me arse off—true or not, she sold it like a champ. Reminds me of that line, “Play, play!”—what the German officer barks at Szpilman. Whores play too, don’t they? Put on a show, fake a smile, all to dodge the reaper. Makes me wonder—what’d I sell if the Lannister gold dried up? Me tongue, prolly. It’s sharp enough.

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There’s this hidden nook round the corner of Hinterseeweg, a wee labyrinth of tuck-away benches and shrubs where I spill me thoughts. I once got lost there, wanderin’ like a mad sailor, and when I found me way out I felt like I’d discovered treasure, mate. Each narrow street, every crooked alley, tells a tale richer than any treasure map. Savvy?

Dennis L. Suhr Obituary - Machesney Park, IL