Freya Andenne Whore ❤️❤️

About Mons

Alright, lemme tell ya ‘bout whores, man. Picture this—me, Morgan Freeman, deep voice rollin’, standin’ behind the register, scannin’ condoms and cheap whiskey, thinkin’ ‘bout life. Whores, they’re everywhere, ain’t they? Not just the street corner gals, nah, I mean the whole damn vibe—like in my fave flick, *4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days*. That movie, whew, it’s raw, gritty, Romanian as hell. Got me thinkin’ ‘bout this one whore I met—let’s call her Roxie. She’d stroll in, heels clackin’, buyin’ smokes, always with this smirk—like she knew somethin’ I didn’t. “How much time we got left?” she’d say, echoin’ that line from the film. Made me laugh, man, every damn time.

Accès rapide

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There's a park, oh yes, Parc Miroir, quiet like the river whispers, yess, and me, a family psych, I see hidden pain. "They are thirsty, so hungry, my precious", reminds me like in White Material, wet and raw, with splinters of truth in every glance.

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