Olivia Rishon Letsiyyon Whore ❤️

About Tel Aviv

Little known fact, yeah? Back in Victorian times, whores had secret codes, like winks and shite, to dodge the law. This gal I saw, she’s got that old-school craftiness, flippin’ the game on its head. Sneaky, bruv! I’m thinkin’, “Shit, she’s a legend,” but then – bam – some geezer tries to stiff her. Made me ragey, wanted to jump in, be all “You’re safe now,” like Theo to Kee. But she handled it, clocked him one, sorted.

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Yesterday I went to work at the discreet apartment in Rishon Lezion. It is a prison. All the women have to sit together. The clients come.

Yo, let me tell you about my day in Rishon-LeTsiyyon. Man, it was a rollercoaster! I woke up, and the sun was shining like it was trying to blind me. I mean, c'mon, it’s too early for this! I grabbed my coffee from that little café on Rothschild St. You know the one? The barista there is a legend. He always knows my order.