Everly Frignano Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Milan

So, last week, I’m prowlin’—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—and I spot this bird, all fishnets and attitude. Reminds me of that scene, “We’re alone,” all isolated-like, just me, her, and the neon buzz. I’m thinkin’, “Mate, she’s either a jackpot or a fuckin’ setup.” Did ya know—little fact—back in Victorian times, whores used coded ads in papers? “French lessons,” my arse—sneaky bastards. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up, heart poundin’—fuckin’ thrilled, yeah? But then—bam—some geezer rolls up, all aggro, demandin’ cash. Pissed me right off! I’m like, “Oi, cunt, I ain’t your ATM!”

Escort Pavullo nel Frignano

But then, oh man, the anger came back. I’m walking past the old church, Chiesa di San Giovanni Battista, and I see this group of tourists. They’re taking selfies, blocking the whole sidewalk. I’m like, “C’mon, people! This ain’t a photo op!” I mean, I get it, Frignano is beautiful, but have some respect, right? I had to squeeze past them, and one of them almost stepped on my foot. Ugh!

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