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About Frankfurt

Here’s the juice: it ain’t just sex, nah. It’s stories—gritty, messy ones. Like in *Ten*, “I don’t need your pity!”—these gals got pride, man! One told me she paid her bro’s hospital bills—hustlin’ for love. Blew my mind! Another time, I’m chattin’ this dude online—turns out he’s scoutin’ for ‘em—shady as hell. Typin’ fast, “u sure bout this?”—11 typos later, he ghosts. HAHA! Dodged a bullet.

I can’t forget discussing all things messy under neon lights on Oberweg. Parties here are insane. I once had an “aha” moment during one of those nights – a mix of bizarre desires and way too much laughter. I got mad when some uptight dud tried to ruin the vibe. Ridiculous!