Rebecca Saanen Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Bern

So, I’m prowlin’, yeah, lookin’ for one. Not my usual gig – I’d rather bid on a cursed mask or summat. But there she is, leanin’ on a wall, smokin’ a fag like she owns the night. “What’s yer price, love?” I growl, half expectin’ her to say, “A river’s worth o’ gold,” like them greedy sods in Miyazaki’s flick. She laughs – rough, like gravel – an’ says, “Firty quid, big man.” Thirty! I’m gobsmacked, mate. Thought it’d be more, what with inflation an’ all.

Exploring Unknown Horizons

Aight, listen up, my mate. So Saanen, innit? I’ve been livin' here a minute in Saanen (ch) and it's proper magic, bruv! The vibe is like another planet sometimes, like, “Is it ’cos I is black?”—nah, it’s ’cos this damn place is wicked!

Passionate about goats