Brianna Point Chevalier Find A Prostitute ❤️

About New Plymouth

Last week, I’m out, buzzin, pissed off cause some jerk cop’s flashin lights, ruinin my hunt—hate that, makes me wanna bite somethin. Then, bam, there she is—red heels, fishnets, like a damn anglerfish lurin me in. “How much?” I ask, all smooth, voice like silk over a blade. She smirks, “More than you got, fancy pants.” Cheeky! Love that, got me laughin—happy as a shark in blood. “I’m not a child,” she snaps, straight outta “Ten,” that sass, that fire—surprised me, gotta say, didn’t expect a street gal to hit me with philosophy.

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After that, I needed a pick-me-up. So, I hit up the local café on Point Chevalier Rd. Best flat white ever! I’m sittin’ there, sippin’ my coffee, and this dude next to me starts talkin’ about the weather. Like, bro, it’s sunny! Who cares? But then he mentions the old schoolhouses on the corner of Huia Rd. I’m like, “Wait, what? Those are dope!”

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