Ivy Le Merlan Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Strasbourg

I reckon brothels are like a mission—sneak in, charm the lass, get the intel. Last time I waltzed into one, this bird with legs for days gives me the eye. “Obey me,” she says, like that creepy Pale Man from the flick. Gave me chills, but I’m Bond, innit? Kept cool, ordered a martini—shaken, obvs. Made me happy, that swagger, dodgin’ the chaos. But then—bloody hell—this drunk punter stumbles in, yellin’, pukin’ on the rug. Pissed me off, mate! Ruined the vibe, like a grenade in a ballroom.

Escort girl Marseille

Over the past hundred years, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec's painting of two prostitutes waiting for a gynaecological inspection in a Parisian brothel has been.

I sometimes wander too fast, sorta like our wild city. Life here is erratic, raw, and fierce. I get mad when I see injustice even in a tiny alley, yet so much makes me happy – laughter in the local bistros, heartfelt chats on park benches, and memories poured out under starry skies.

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