Olivia Baiao Whore ❤️

About Funchal

I’m leanin’ on the bars, thinkin’, “She’s a survivor, dude.” Kinda admire that. Reminds me of Grace sayin’, “I forgive you,” all calm-like, then bam – betrayal. Whore’s got that vibe. Hooks up with Big Sal, runs the block like a queen. Happy as hell when she’s winnin’, struttin’ round. But then – ugh, screws me up – she snitches. Snitches! Hate that shit, man, breaks the code.

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Sexual massage, Uniforms, Dirtytalk, Titjob, Dirtytalk.

First off, I hit up Rua da Liberdade for some coffee. You know, the good stuff. I’m standing there, waiting for my bica, and this old dude starts chatting me up. He’s like, “You know, back in my day…” and I’m thinking, “Bro, I just want my caffeine fix!” But hey, he’s got stories. I mean, who doesn’t love a good tale about the old days?

Calling in the Seabirds