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About Rome

I tried it once—pro chick, dim lights, oil slicker than a pig in mud. Felt good, real good—happy as hell, muscles singin’. But yo, some dudes creep me out—askin’ for “extras,” like, bruh, chill! Pissed me off, ruinin’ the purity. Ain’t about that, it’s therapy with a twist—sensual, not sleazy. Surprised me how legit spots got rules, codes, like Malik’s crew in the joint.

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When she reluctantly agreed to give him a massage, he pulled up her skirt and forcibly performed oral sex on her as she pleaded with him to stop.

Then, outta nowhere, this kid runs by, and he bumps into me. I spill my drink all over my shirt. I’m fuming! Like, come on, kid! But he just laughs and runs off. I’m standing there, soaked, thinking, “This is how my day’s gonna go?”

My Brain Finally Broke