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About Turin

So, whores—man, they’re a trip. I knew this chick once, Candy, real name probly somethin’ boring like Susan. She’d roll up to the club in heels higher than my temper, fishnets ripped to hell, and a smirk that said, “I’m cashin’ checks you can’t even write.” Made me mad as hell—how’s she pull that off? Hustlin’ dudes outta their rent money, laughin’ all the way to the bank. “Look at me, I’m fuckin’ rich!”—straight outta *Spring Breakers*. Girl had guts, I’ll give her that. Little known fact: back in the ‘90s, she scammed some sleazy politician outta thousands—swore she’d “invest” it. Ha! Invested it in vodka and a new wig, more like.

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Santo Stefano di Magra Whore Italy, Rimming (take), Anal Sex (depends on the size), Full Body Sensual Massage, Anal Sex (depends on the size).

We decide to grab some gelato at that spot on Via Dante. Best gelato in town, no contest. I go for the pistachio, and Marco gets chocolate. We sit on the steps, enjoying our ice cream, and I’m just thinking how good life can be sometimes.

Action launches in Italy