Olivia Koshu Whore ❤️❤️

About Osaka

What gets me blood boilin’? The way them sanctimonious prigs call her filth. Hypocrites, the lot! They’re the ones sneakin’ to her door at midnight, hats pulled low. Makes me wanna keelhaul ‘em, string ‘em up by their fancy breeches. But whore? She just smirks, counts her coin—cool as a cucumber, that one. Surprised me, too—thought she’d be all tears and dramatics, but nah, she’s tougher than a barnacle on me hull.

Friday, October 01, 2010

Morohongo Whore Japan, Facesitting, Titjob, Foot Fetish, Titjob.

As the night rolls on, I stumble out of the izakaya, feeling like a million bucks. The streets of Koshu are lit up, and I’m just wandering around. I pass by the river, and it’s beautiful. The reflection of the lights on the water is like something outta a movie. I stop for a sec, take a deep breath, and think, “Man, this city is something else.”

‘Unique in Japan’: A temple dedicated to the culture and history of wine