Willow King's Cross Sex Escort ❤️

About Sheffield

Met this one bird – leggy, blonde, eyes like fuckin’ daggers. Called herself “Lavinia,” probly fake, but who cares? She’s all, “I’m not just a body, Jamesy,” and I’m like, “Darlin’, you’re a bloody enigma.” Reminded me of that *Holy Motors* line – “Beauty? It’s in the eye.” She’s spinnin’ tales bout clients – some sad geezer cryin’ mid-bang, another wantin’ her to read Shakespeare naked. Shakespeare! Fuck me, I’d pay double for that.

So, I roll into King’s Cross, and first thing I notice? The hustle. Like, whoa! People everywhere. I’m used to the quiet of the forest, not this mad rush. I’m standing there, looking like a lost puppy, when I spot the iconic St. Pancras station. That place is a beauty! I mean, the architecture? Wow. It’s like a castle but for trains. I half expected a knight to pop out and ask for directions.

Major London station to close for two weekends in a row