Zara Santa Croce Sull Arno Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bologna

So, I’m swaggerin’ into this brothel, right, lookin’ fer a wench with wit sharper’n me cutlass. Air’s thick with perfume—cheap stuff, burns yer nose like bad grog. Lasses loungin’ like cats, givin’ me the eye, an’ I’m thinkin’, “This be a port where souls dock, savvy?” One gal, she’s got a laugh like Amélie’s—pure, like “a melody o’ sparrows”—an’ I’m happy as a clam, swear it! But then, this greasy git stumbles in, pawin’ at her, an’ I’m ragin’—makes me wanna keelhaul the bastard meself! Ain’t right, I tell ye.

Eventi a Santa Croce sull’Arno

Next up, I had this girl, Sofia. She was a total opposite of Marco. Super confident, like she owned the road. We’re driving down Via Garibaldi, and she’s blasting some pop music. I’m trying to teach her about roundabouts, and she’s singing at the top of her lungs. I’m like, “Sofia, focus!” But she’s in her own world. Honestly, I kinda loved it.

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