Avery Ceggia Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Catania

So, brothel—dark, smoky, girls loungin’ round. Velvet curtains, stained sheets—classy, right? Nah, it’s a circus! Blokes stumblin’ in, half-pissed, wallets out. I saw this one geezer—fat, bald, wheezin’—thought he’d croak mid-shag. Hilarious! “Pull yourself together, man!”—straight outta the flick. Made me cackle, mischief tickled pink. But then—anger! Some lass, barely 18, eyes dead. Forced? Tricked? Pissed me off—where’s the justice?

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First off, I’m zooming down Via Roma, and I hit a pothole. Like, seriously? Ceggia, fix your roads! My coffee nearly flew outta my hand. I’m already cranky. But whatever, I get to the auction house, and it’s packed. I mean, people everywhere! Old folks, young bucks, even a couple of kids running around like they own the place.

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