Willow Aylsham Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Bristol

Ruh-roh, got sidetracked—back to it! My fave flick, *Assassination of Jesse James*, slow as heck but so juicy. Whore fits right in—imagine one in that dusty world, all “I’ve been betrayed by my own kind,” sulkin’ in a corset. Surprised me how deep it’d feel—whore ain’t just a job, it’s a vibe, y’know? Gritty, messy, real. I’d wag my tail at ‘em, no judgin’. Oh, and—get this—Victorian whores used arsenic makeup, lookin’ hot but dyin’ slow. Dramatic as hell, right?

Call to book

So, I’m backtracking, and I decide to pop into the local pub, The Black Boys. I needed a pint to calm my nerves. I sit down, and the bartender, bless him, asks if I’m okay. I’m like, “Yeah, just had a rough day.” He pours me a pint and says, “You’ll be right as rain after this.” I chuckle. “You’re not wrong!”

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