Elise Budapest Xvii. Keruelet Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Budapest

So, I tried it once—yep, lil’ ol’ me! Got this fella rubbin’ oil like he’s polishin’ a Cadillac. Felt so good I hollered, “Well, slap my ass and call me sassy!” Made me happy as a pig in mud, but lord, the price? Nearly choked me—$100 for 30 minutes? I was madder’n a wet hen! Coulda bought me a new wig! But them hands—ooh, they knew tricks. Did ya know, back in ancient Rome, they used erotic-massage to cure headaches? Bet them senators was grinnin’ like fools!

Next, I decide to check out the local thrift shop on Kossuth Lajos utca. I’m digging through clothes, and I find this ridiculous jacket. It’s bright orange, like a traffic cone. I put it on, and I swear, I look like a walking safety hazard. I take a selfie, send it to my friends, and they’re dying laughing. “Dude, what are you wearing?”