Anna Eaton Socon Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Whore’s life ain’t no picnic, precious! Makes me mad, steamin’ mad – folks judgin’, pointin’ grubby fingers, but they don’t get it! Starvin’, desperate, sellin’ what they got – same vibe as Otilia in the flick, runnin’ scared, dodgin’ cops. “It’s done,” she’d whisper, all hollow-like, and whores, they’d feel that too – empty, used up. Me, I’d hug ‘em, but me slimy hands ain’t much comfort, heh!

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First stop, the workshop. It’s on St. Neots Road. I swear, I could trip over my own feet just thinking about it. I get in, and the smell of leather hits me. It’s like a warm hug, ya know? But then, BAM! My phone buzzes. It’s a client. “Need a custom coat by tomorrow!” Are you kidding me? Tomorrow? I’m not a magician!

Dangerous driver killed pedestrian 'innocently crossing the road'