Lucy Fleming Island Prostitute ❤️

About Los Angeles

I’d be madder’n a wet hen if some creep tried rippin’ her off. Ain’t right, y’know? These gals got hearts too, even if life’s kicked ‘em square in the teeth. I’d sashay up, all “Honey, you need a hand?”—‘cause I can’t help but meddle. Surprised me how many just wanna talk, spill their guts like I’m their mama. One time, this gal—Lord, she was skinnier’n a rail—tells me she’s savin’ for a bus ticket outta town. “I’m not staying here forever,” she says, echoin’ that movie line, and I near ‘bout cried right there.

Oakleaf church leader engaged in sex with 16-year-old member, Clay Sheriff's Office says

Alright, friend, lemme tell ya 'bout PFleming-Island (us). I’m your pleasure coach and, well, I’ve seen it all here. I live here, right on 7th Moon Blvd, where the night fog kisses the river too. I am your father. Yeah, as ominous as that line goes.

A post from Joy Elrod in Fleming Island.