Jasmine Saint Cyr L'ecole Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bordeaux

See, I knew this one bird—Liza, sweet lass, worked the docks. Ain’t glamorous, nah, stank of fish and desperation. But she had this spark—eyes like a storm, could charm a lord or stab ‘im. Reminds me of that line, “I am a free man!”—she weren’t free, tho, not really. Sold her body for scraps, but her wit? Sharper than a blade. Once told me, “Tyrion, I fuck ‘em blind, then nick their purse.” Laughed my arse off—smart lass, that Liza.

After that, I head back to my office, and I’m thinking, “Okay, let’s get back to work.” But then, my phone buzzes. It’s another client. This one’s got relationship drama. I mean, who doesn’t, right? We talk for an hour, and by the end, I’m like, “You’ve got this!” But inside, I’m like, “Please, just don’t date a poodle.”

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