Maeve Bous Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Berlin

So, here’s the deal—I knew this chick, right? Street name was Candy, real name probly somethin’ lame like Carol. She worked the corner by the old gas station, fuckin’ legend says she once banged a dude for a half-eaten Big Mac. Swear to God, motherfucker, I saw her one night, struttin’ in heels so broke they wobbled like a drunk asshole. Made me laugh, shit! “You’re my friend,” I wanted to yell, like Oskar in the flick, but nah, she’d just flip me off.

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But new research drawing on a large-scale nationally representative sample of men shows that frequenting prostitutes is not actually all that ordinary in the United States.

I live here as a sexologist, so I spot all the sexy nooks others miss. The little café on Plätzchenweg? Super risqué – a perfect spot to watch flirty passersby. And oh man, the Rheinpromenade! It's like Mother Nature herself is groovin' on the river's edge. The little river, gently babbling, brings in memories: "The Assassin," its silent whispers, man, like “the wind whispers its secrets...” Yeah, baby!

Raging BULL leaps into the sea for Spain's traditional Bous a la mar ceremony near Alicante