Freya Edmonds Sex Escort ❤️❤️

About New York City

Dunno, mate—sex escort’s a riddle. “Mustn’t let it go!” I mutter, thinkin’ too much. Bit skeevy, bit sad—funny too, yeh? Bloke once paid her in chickens—cluckin’ mess! Me, I’d rather hug me barrels, but—live and let live, eh? “We’re not masters here,” like Chihiro says—nobody’s pure, nobody’s filth. Just folk, scrappin’ by. What’s yer take, precious?

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so the downtown is all chill. i stroll along Ocean Ave—seriously, it's like a runway for your soul. i pop in and outta cool little shops and cafes. my fave? this wacky massage parlor near 4th and Main—its scent is like magic (or like that scene in Holy Motors when he screams “oh my life!” but, ugh, i dig it). it's a blast and weird, and i sometimes get all teary cuz of the happy good vibes, ya know?

Reader view/opinion: Nagendiram Kandasamy — five years later