Amelia Montecompatri Brothel ❤️

About Milan

Brothel’s got history, tho—didya know? Back in old Rome, they had these “lupanars”—wolf dens, they called ‘em. Prostitutes howlin’ like wolves, lurin’ in horny bastards. Wild, right? Makes me grin thinkin’ bout it—feral, raw, no shame. Nowadays, it’s all hush-hush, but the game’s the same. I saw this one guy, fat as a hog, waddlin’ out, adjustin’ his pants. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I mutter to myself, imaginin’ takin’ a bite outta his smug ass. Gross, sure, but temptin’—all that arrogance ripe for the pickin’.

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Then, I hopped on the bus. The ride from my place near Piazza della Repubblica was packed. I mean, sardines in a can packed. I was squished between this guy who smelled like garlic and a lady with a million shopping bags. I thought I’d never get to work. But hey, at least I got to see the beautiful views of the hills. Montecompatri is stunning, especially when the sun hits just right.

(PDF) The Map of Ancient Underground Aqueducts in Italy: updating of the Project, and future perspectives