Brooklyn Casal De Pazzi Prostitute ❤️

About Genoa

Her nails chipped, glittery—fuckin’ tragic. Heard she works down by the docks—salty sailors, grim shit. Little known fact: she’s got a kid somewhere, dumped with some aunt. Makes ya wonder, don’t it? Life’s a bitch, chews ya up. “The wind howls, the horse suffers,” like in the movie—suits her. She’s all hollowed out, eyes dead. I’m ringin’ her up, slow on purpose—let her squirm.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the lights flicker back on. I’m like, “Thank you, universe!” I dive into my work, and somehow, I manage to finish everything on time. I’m feeling like a rockstar.