Aria Eppendorf Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Leipzig

I’m sizin her up, thinkin, “She’s got game, this one.” Reminds me of *Boyhood* again—“You don’t pick who ya love,” or who ya pay, I guess. I’m happy as hell—finally scored, no more wanderin like a lost dog. But then she quotes me a price, and I’m like, “Fuck me, that’s steep!” Nearly choked on my own spit—surprised the shit outta me. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I growl, half-jokin, half-testin her. She don’t flinch—tough as nails, this chick.

What is prostitution?

And, oh! I was chattin' with a family, and they said, “Hey Doc, ain't this the loveliest maze of emotions?” I was like, yeah, one million dollars in feels! Streets twist and curve and you never know if you'll bump into a quirky artist or a lost soul havin' a meltdown. Every corner, mate, tells a story.

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