Charlotte Draper Brothel ❤️❤️

About San Jose

So, brothels—where do I start? They’re old as sin, legit. Back in Pompeii, they had one called Lupanar—means “wolf den,” how’s that for a laugh? Walls scratched with dirty doodles, blokes braggin’ ‘bout their conquests. Makes me chuckle, thinkin’ they’re all just tossers tryna feel big. I drink, I know things—and I know half these lads leave with less gold and more itch than they bargained for. Gets me riled up, tho—pisses me off how the girls get the short end. Used up, tossed out, no one givin’ a shit. Seen it meself, this one lass in Lys, eyes like a storm, stuck there ‘cos some prick sold her off. Broke me heart, it did.

Correspondent

Don Draper boldly takes his three children to see his childhood home, a crumbling Victorian brothel operated by his uncle.

Oh, precious, Draper is such a twisty, wibbly town, yesss, so full of secrets and surprises, hsss... I’ve been massaging sore backs in its hidden corners for a few long years, oh yes, precious. Let me tell you, my friend, it's wicked good and rough as well. Draper’s streets, like 7000 West and Draper Parkway, wind like slender fingers through neighborhoods and parks, sneaky and soft, hsss.

Madrid Open: Britain's Jack Draper cruises past Matteo Arnaldi to reach semi-finals