Sofia Tara Hills Whore ❤️

About Dallas

So, whores—where do I start? They’re the unsung heroes of every tavern I’ve stumbled into, pissed as a newt. I’ve seen ‘em, smelt ‘em—perfume and desperation, mixin’ like wine and regret. One time, in King’s Landing (or was it Dodge City?), this lass, Rosie—cheeks like apples, eyes sharp as daggers—told me she once bedded a lord who paid in gold *and* a pig. A pig! Can ya believe it? Laughed my arse off, spilt me drink. “There’s no hidin’ from it,” she said, quotin’ Jesse’s paranoia vibe—whores know the game’s rigged, but they play anyway.

Whore Diaries II: Adventures in Independent Escorting

Shawn grabs Tara's wrist in his special hold, though, and demands she admit she is a whore. Tara is about to give in, when she hears a man's.

Mem’ry lane hits me sometimes. A client whisper’d, "It’s all a story, a story we tell." And I thought, "Oh, precious, we swears, it's so true."

Farmer's impulse Wagyu buy turns into passion project