Freya Oundle Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Glasgow

Oi, mate, let’s talk brothel. Cold, hard facts—prostitution’s old as dirt. Draws punters like flies to shit. Money, sex, power—boom, that’s the gig. I reckon it’s the rush, yeah? Lads wantin’ what’s forbidden, sneaky-like. Me, I see it sharp—calculated. Like in *Brokeback Mountain*, “I wish I knew how to quit you”—some blokes can’t quit the brothel neither. Ain’t love, just lust, cash on table.

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Then, I bump into an old friend from uni. We start chatting, and I’m feeling all nostalgic. Oundle’s got that vibe, you know? The old buildings, the river, it’s like a postcard. But then, outta nowhere, it starts pouring! I mean, seriously? One minute, sunshine; the next, I’m drenched.

‘Everyone says Jenny would be proud of me - I know she would be’