Camila Kuroda Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Saitama

So I asks, “How much, precious?” She smirks, “Fifty quid, you weirdo.” Fifty! Robbery, that is! “I ain’t got no home,” I whines, quotin’ Llewyn again, hopin’ pity works. Nope. She rolls her eyes, walks off, hips swayin’. Grrr, made me ragey, but also – wow – them curves, my precious! Nearly chased her, but me legs, all wobbly, nah.

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We finally get a seat, and the ramen? Oh man, it’s life-changing. I’m slurping away, and Kenji’s telling me about this crazy festival happening next week. I’m like, “Dude, I’m a Kvasnik, I can’t just drop everything for a festival!” But inside, I’m kinda excited. Festivals in Kuroda are wild. Fireworks, food, and all the people.

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