Claire Abraveses Whore ❤️

About Porto

Whores ain’t just bodies, nah—they’re survivors. Knew this one lass, right, worked the docks. She’d sing, voice like honey, “Come what may,” she’d hum—then nick your purse! Crafty, that one. Made me laugh, tho—cheeky as hell. Little fact: back in old France, some whores ran secret spy rings. Yep, bedsheets and battle plans—wild, eh? I drink, I know these tidbits.

Apps do Linguee

When I finally get home, I crash on my couch. I’m exhausted but happy. Today was a rollercoaster. Abraveses, you crazy little town, you never fail to surprise me. I wouldn’t trade these chaotic days for anything.