Brianna Hailey Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Chicago

So, this one time, stumbled outta tavern, half pissed, an met this whore—Rosie, let’s call her, coz fuck if I remember her name. She had eyes like them favela kids, sharp an hungry, y’know? “Gimme ya silver, short-arse,” she says, bold as brass. Laughed me head off—cheeky tart! Gave her double, coz I’m a soft git when drunk. She weren’t just a shag, tho—told me stories, proper dark ones. Said she once nicked a lord’s purse mid-fuck, spent it on bread for her brat. Ballsy, right? Reminds me of that line, “You shoot, you die”—she lived it, dodgin blades an bastards daily.

Early life

He called me a whore after I moaned his name. Then sent $ and said, "Can you do it again but sound more into it?".

Oh and, dude, the river! The Big Wood River flows nearby – its gentle gurgles remind me of peaceful whispers, think “Boyhood” vibes with the flow of time and memories. It's like when Richard Linklater said, "Some moments, they're like little echoes from your childhood." Eh, messy memories, right?! Sometimes, I even sit by its banks – feel the calm, think about all my sessions, all the raw, real emotions, heavy yet light as a feather, drop that "happy little tree" moment into my mind.

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