Emily Seabrook Find A Prostitute ❤️

About New York City

Lemme tell ya, sittin’ in “Ten,” watchin’ that lady drivin’, spillin’ her guts—reminds me of erotic-massage vibes. “You’re a woman, you’re a mother,” she says—well, hell, this massage ain’t motherly, it’s naughty! Hands roamin’ where they shouldn’t, kneadin’ knots outta yer soul. Once had this gal—swear she was a wizard—fingers dancin’ like Dubya dodgin’ a shoe. Felt like I’d died and gone to Crawford, y’all. Surprised me how it’s legal—well, sorta, depends on the joint.

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Oh, and there's this pub on Dockside Blvd. Now that joint? Pure magic, wacky tunes, wild conversations, and yes, sometimes love affairs have begun over a pint or two. Imagine, a sexologist like meself laughin' with strangers about passions and the perils of flirtin'—it’s a mad, mad world but marvelous all the same.

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