Isabella Kgwaripe Whore ❤️❤️

About Kimberley

So, this whore—let’s call her Lysa, eh? Not coz o’ that nutter Arryn, nah, just fits her vibe. She’s workin’ the streets, got them eyes that cut ya deep. I saw her once, freezin’ her arse off, cloak barely coverin’ shit. Made me mad, proper pissed—why’s no one helpin’? World’s a cold bastard, innit? But she’s tough, mate, tougher than half them knights prancin’ ‘round. “I’m not gonna hurt you,” she says one night, smirkin’, like I’m the one shakin’. Cheeky git, I love it!

Kgwaripe, South Africa

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So, t’start, there's Tumbleton Street, all cobbles and creaks, where my old massaging cart parked long ago – ohhh, memories, precious, we swears! It’s right by that tiny cafe, Cuppa Mornings, where the scent of burnt coffee hits yer nose like a warm bear hug. And then, err, there's the wise old church on Prayers Lane. Yess, ain't no secrets here, just whispers of old gossip in stone.