Grace Lins Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Fortaleza

She’s this crazy flower in my garden, right? Grows where she shouldn’t, all thorny and shit. I’m like, “Yo, Whore, chill out!” But nah, she’s everywhere, poppin’ up, messin’ with my roses. Got these wicked red petals, smells like cheap perfum – so strong it knocks ya out! Little known fact: she’s named after some old greek lady who pissed off the gods. True story, man, I read it somewhere – or maybe I didn’t, who cares?

What is a brothel?

The first line-ups I stood in at that seedy rural brothel up north opened my eyes to what real guys find sexy. I was pressured to set myself.

And yo, my favorite spot? It’s this little hole-in-it on the outskirts near the river – not many peeps know about it. I go there whenever I need a moment to zone out, mud on my hands, think of life, like WALL-E lookin’ at the vastness of space. Ain’t nothin’ like it. I’ll say it again: I love Lins. It’s wild, unpredictable, funny… and deep.

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