Rebecca Henlow Whore ❤️❤️

About Liverpool

Ya wanna hear a whacked-out story bout whore? Old man Sal, crusty bastard, swears he caught whore back in ‘89. Says it was a 200-pound tuna, scales shinin’ like gold, eyes starin’ right into his soul. Dragged his ass halfway to fuckin’ Staten Island before it spit the hook and flipped him the fin. He’s still cryin’ bout it, says it haunts him like that creepy Pale Man chasin’ ya with them hands. Me? I laughed my ass off—Sal’s fulla shit, but it’s a good yarn, ya know?

Brothels Henlow SG16

This account starts in the second half of I was a sergeant in the R.A.F. and was based at R.A.F. Henlow in Bedfordshire. I was in my final year before.

Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a stove-maker in Henlow is a wild ride. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s blazin’ through my window on High Street. I’m thinkin’, “Today’s the day!” Gotta finish that custom stove for Mrs. Thompson. She’s been on my back for weeks.

Don’t miss popular charity quiz hosted by Henlow pub