Cora Forli Whore ❤️

About Florence

But lemme tell ya, some whores—shady as hell. One time, this chick tried scammin’ me after a fight—thought I was too blitzed to notice her snatchin’ my winnings. “Don’t pee on my leg, honey!” I barked, grabbin’ her wrist. She bolted, but damn, I was impressed—sneaky lil’ minx! Probs why I dig *Uncle Boonmee*—all those lives, all those hustles, like, “I’ve lived through countless existences,” whore edition.

Castello Crasher

Lucrezia straightened up slowly, beholding the whore of Forli with hatred and satisfaction. She could practically smell the desire coming off of.

Man, what a day! I swear, Forli really knows how to throw a curveball. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s shining, birds chirping, and I’m thinkin’ it’s gonna be a chill day. I grab my fishing gear, head outta my place on Via G. Marconi. You know, the street with that little café? Yeah, the one with the best cappuccino in town. I’m buzzin’ for some fresh fish, maybe a nice catch at the river.

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