Rebecca Irati Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Fortaleza

So, picture this chick—let’s call her Candy, ‘cause why not? She’s slingin’ her game downtown, heels clickin’ like war drums. Mr. T digs her style—bold, unapologetic, like, “I protect my own!” straight outta *Moolaadé*. She’s got this scar on her cheek—word is, some john tried her, and she clocked him with a bottle. Little known fact? Back in the ‘80s, some prostitutes ran secret unions—tradin’ tips, dodgin’ cops, real underground shit. Candy’s like that, a hustler with heart.

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Hey, how you doin'? So lemme tell ya 'bout Irati (br) – this town's got so much vibe, man! I’ve been here for years, and every corner's got a story. Walkin’ down Rua das Flores, my favorite street, you'll notice the little cafés with crazy comfy chairs where I chill and recharge my zen energy. Seriously, the aroma of roasted coffee beans mixed with fresh pastries always makes me smile.

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