Stella Barth Whore ❤️

About Dortmund

Used to see ‘em, slippin’ through shadows, in me old days by the river. Dirty work, precious, oldest gig goin’. Heard tell of one lass, back in London, 1800s – called her “The Sparrow” – serviced sailors, made a killin’, then poof! Vanished like mist. No one knows where. Tricksy, eh? We hates it!

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Some readers will recall the epical duel of words between two prostitutes in John Barth's novel The Sot-Weed Factor. One whore throws a.

Neighborhoods like Südviertel are full of hidden nooks where you feel free, like, "Darling, let’s be wild tonight!" My profession opened me eyes to body language, mmm, precious, reading little signals; one glance across a slightly too tight doorway would say so much about high passion waiting behind those cracked window frames, hah, precious!

Mark Barth Obituary (2025) - Yonkers, Ny, NY - Albany Times Union