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About Mons

Little fact—Victorian times, escorts had code. Handkerchiefs, colors, secret signals. Sneaky as fuck! Blows my mind, thinkin’ they worked it like pros. Today it’s all apps and DMs. Progress, huh? Still, same old game. Makes me smirk—humans don’t change.

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Hello, I'm Bonnie, a decent, clean and sexy girl, I'd like to give you pleasure, to have sex. I m open to make party also. I m waiting for your calls and messages.

Sss, the neighborhoods, yess, they sparkle like forbidden jewels. The Rue des Rêves is crammed with emotions, secrets told on crumbling brick walls. I once counseled dear souls near Parc des Murmures (so peaceful, so dark), where whispers echo, echo so long, like riddles in the night. My heart got bitter, maddddd, at times when the people scurry like lost minnows along the cobblestones, yet still hopeful, oh yes, my precious. Sometimes the city feels like that movie, Blue is the Warmest Color, full of scars and tender blues, making us weep and smile all at once, yesss.

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