Emily Borgo Val Di Taro Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Genoa

I ask her rate—50 bucks, she says. Cheap, right? But I’m broke as a joke, so I haggle. “Don’t pee on my leg, girl, I ain’t no millionaire!” She smirks, drops it to 40. Deal. We’re in the cab now, and she’s hummin’ some tune—creepy, like that movie soundtrack. “Do you want to look at me?” she asks, all sultry. Hell yeah, I do! But it’s quick—15 minutes tops. Tractor seat’s squeakin’, I’m prayin’ no cop rolls by.

Borgo Val di Taro

So, I woke up late. Classic me, right? Alarm didn’t go off. I jumped outta bed, threw on whatever I could find. I mean, who needs matching socks anyway? Not me! Rushed outta my apartment on Via Roma, barely had time to grab a piece of toast. I was like a tornado, just spinning around.

At Silver Lake’s new Ceci’s Gastronomia, Italian grandmas rule