Valentina Baltimore Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

So, whores—grubby, loud, in your face. Hate ‘em. They’re like glitter—stick around, can’t shake ‘em. One time, saw this gal, skirt hiked up, yellin’ at some dude. Made me laugh, then pissed me off. Why’s she hollerin’? Get a grip, lady. “I don’t remember anything,” Verónica mumbles in the movie. Whore prolly don’t either—too many nights, too many jerks. Little known fact: back in the 1800s, whores ran towns. Yep, owned saloons, called shots. Wild, huh? Surprised me, honestly—thought they just, y’know, laid there.

Prostitution

Gimme a sec, lemme tell ya – err, sorry, I'm ramblin’. There was this one day, right? I was massagin' a tough customer near Eastern Ave, and he goes, “Man, Baltimore's a mess... but it's my kind of mess.” And I laughed! Crazy, right? I mean, the touch, the feel, it all collides – like that wild moment in White Material where every touch is a story untold.

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