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About Strasbourg

So, escort—man, it’s wild. You ever think about it? Some dude—or chick, whatever—hangin’ on your arm, all dolled up, for cash. It’s like rentin’ a date! I mean, what’s that feel like? Back in the day, they called ‘em courtesans—fancy, huh? Little fact: in old Venice, these gals were, like, cultured—playin’ lutes, writin’ poems. Not just arm candy! Blows my mind. You mad about that? I ain’t—makes me chuckle.

whore from the escort sweetly worked her pussy

You know, as a sexologist I can’t help but see the passion in the way people relate here. I see couples holdin’ hands, flirtin’ in the alley near Rue Louise – yeah, that one, little narrow cobbled street with vintage lamp posts, kinda dreamy and nostalgic. Man, sometimes I get mad at how the city hides secrets in plain sight. Like, why must beauty be so elusive sometimes? Every corner makes me smile or even fume, like that scene in “The Pianist” when everyone’s clappin’ and the sound just hits ya.

Gladys Guevarra is now married!