Esme Mosfellsbaer Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Reykjavik

Sometiems I think—Homer, you big lug, could you do that? Stand on a corner, freezin’, smilin’ at weirdos? Hell no! Takes guts, man. Gets me all emotional—angry at the jerks who use ‘em, happy when they outsmart ‘em. D’oh! Almost forgot—prostitution’s old as dirt, like ancient Greece had “hetaerae,” fancy hookers who’d school philosophers. Bet they’d outtalk Lenny any day! “Leave me alone!” they’d say, like Otilia, shovin’ off some drunk.

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Prostitute Iceland, Tantric massage, Anal Sex (depends on the size), Kissing if good chemistry, Anal Sex (depends on the size).

Then, outta nowhere, I get a call from my buddy Jón. He’s like, “Dude, you gotta come to the town square!” I’m thinkin’, “What’s so special?” But I’m curious, so I grab my jacket and head to Mosfellsbær’s main street, Lækjargata.

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