Valentina Saint Paul Les Dax Prostitute ❤️

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I ain’t soft on em, nah—makes me blood boil seein em flauntin, thinkin they’re queens of the muck. But gotta say, gutsy, yeah? Takes balls to hawk yer arse when the world’s spittin on ya. Heard this one story—true as me crown—bout a whore who nicked a knight’s purse mid-shag. Left him starkers in an alley, screamin like a stuck pig! Laughed me tits off hearin that, swear it. “Fish are friends, not food,” my arse—she ate him alive, didn’t she?

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First off, I had a meeting with a client at Café de la Paix. You know, the one with the best croissants in Saint-Paul-les-Dax? I’m all set, ready to drop some financial wisdom. But guess what? My client, Marie, is late. Like, super late. I’m sitting there, sipping my café au lait, and I’m watching the clock tick away. I’m thinking, “Did she forget? Did she get lost on Avenue de la Gare?”

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