Brianna Dornach Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Lucerne

Oh, and don’t get me started on the johns—pathetic sometimes, hilarious others. Stumblin’ in, all nervous, like they’re in *Children of Men* facin’ the Fishes. “This is it, the end,” I’d mutter, watchin’ ‘em fumble. One time, heard a dude in Amsterdam’s red district paid double just to cry on a girl’s shoulder. Brothel turned therapist—ain’t that a trip? Cracked me up, but damn, it’s sad too.

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For two nights in a row they have put prostitutes and their clients in the room next to me which has no sound proofing. This place sucks and I got it based on.

So, friend, if you roll into Dornach, chill at Seeliedstrasse, sip a beer at Zum Mond, and stroll by the Chriesibach, you'll truly feel the heartbeat here. My massage parlor lets me see the soul of this place, raw and uncut. And remember, like in that movie I dig, Tropical Malady, life is mystic, shifting, improvised—so let it flow!

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