Penelope Brainerd Whore ❤️

About Chicago

I reckon I love ‘em, whores and all their mess. They’re real, raw, like a country song I ain’t wrote yet. Makes me wanna hug ‘em, tell ‘em, “You’re enough, sugar.” ‘Cause lord knows, I ain’t perfect—my halo’s crooked as a dawg’s hind leg! So yeah, whores? They’re my kinda people—flawed, fabulous, and fightin’. Just like that *Tabu* magic—dark, dreamy, and a little bit naughty!

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I gotta share a personal nugget – as a sexologist, I see love in all its messy forms daily. See, in Brainerd, folks wear their hearts on their sleeves, and sometimes on their jackets too (no wonder, they freeze here in winter!). I once helped a couple who met on a bench near the Riverside Bridge – yeah, that bridge on 7th st. They were all hesitant at first but then, BOOM, connection! Reminded me, "Under the Skin, beneath the surface, there's so much more."

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