Paisley Marseille 10 Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Marseille

Oi, you donkey! I'm a stove-maker, yeah, but I’ve got bloody opinions! Prostitutes, right? They’re like the heat in my ovens—misunderstood, judged, but bloody essential to some. Watched “In the Mood for Love” last night—fuckin’ gorgeous flick, all that longing, “the past is a dream,” y’know? Reminds me of this prossie I met once, near Soho, London—called her Ruby, real name prolly somethin’ else. She was a proper looker, mate, but sad, like steam trapped in a shit pot. “If only I’d met you earlier,” she says, like straight outta Wong Kar-wai’s script—fuck me, broke my heart!

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Prostitution at that time was identified by the presence of prostitutes in shops, cafes, taverns or guinguettes, in furnished rooms, boutiques or in private.

The vibe here is like, BAM, boom, pow – emotions flyin everywhere! As a sexologist, I'm seeing heart and soul in every crack of these streets. I feel the passion, the raw energy, and every little rendezvous spot tells a story! I mean, massages down at "Chez l'Amour" – kinda secret, super edgy, ya know?

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