Avery Sorgues Whore ❤️❤️

About Toulouse

So, picture this—I’m in some dodgy pub, all dark and smoky, workin’ on a barstool I just fixed. This bird walks in, proper tarted up, heels clickin’ like gunshots. She’s a whore, no doubt, but there’s somethin’ about her. Not just the obvious, yeah? She’s got that look—like she’s seen too much, felt too much. Reminds me of Alicia in the movie, lyin’ there, silent but screamin’. I’m like, “Bloody hell, love, you’re a walkin’ tragedy.” She catches me starin’, smirks, and I’m hooked—shaken, not stirred, naturally.

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(vulgar, pejorative) A person who is considered to be sexually promiscuous (see also: slut). So after he fucks the shit out of me, he tells me I'm lying about his whore not being Brad. (vulgar) .

Then, outta nowhere, it starts to rain. Just my luck, right? I’m sprinting back to my car, dodging puddles like I’m in some kinda obstacle course. I get to my car, soaked, and I just laugh. Like, what else could go wrong?

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