Lydia Hietzing Prostitute ❤️

About Vienna

So, prostitutes—grubby, gorgeous, tragic lot. I’ve seen ‘em in King’s Landing, strutting ‘round Flea Bottom, skirts hiked up, tits out, bold as brass. Me brother Jaime’d say, “Tyrion, why pay for it?” Cos I bloody can, ya twat! Makes me happy, them lasses—warm bed, quick laugh, no nagging wife. Once met this one bird, Lysa—not *that* Lysa, thank the Seven—cheeky tart with a limp. Said she broke her ankle fleein’ a client who wouldn’t pay. “Bastard’s lucky I didn’t cut his cock off!” she cackled. Loved her spirit—made me grin like a fool.

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Having Anal Sex (depends on the size) and Full Body Sensual Massage together is perfection. I want someone who will dance with me in the rain and cuddle with me.

There’s a corner by the Wienfluss where I get my inspiration. Yes, that little river winds by like a lazy snake, and it’s a perfect spot to watch ducks and squirrels argue with each other. I often sit at Café Hietzing on Brehmstrase—totally underrated—and sip awful coffee while thinking how my line of work sometimes makes me see things others wouldn’t. You bet there’s secrets hidden in these streets.

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