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So. Picture this. These escorts. They’re pros. Not just randos. Off. The. Street! They got skills. Charm. Looks! Little known fact? Back in old Rome. They had courtesans. High-class escorts. Basically! Smarter than half the senators. Hella wild. Right? Bet they’d say. “My body is a prison.” Like in the movie. But. They’d break OUT. With style! Makin’ bank. While. Dudes drooled!

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Let’s start with Mainstreet—no, scratch that—the Royal Avenue. It's where locals wander, gossip, and curse their luck. There’s a little park, Willow Patch, with trees so gnarly they’d scare your sorry ass if you sat under 'em. I once massaged a regular right there, his knuckles tense, saying, “I’m like the outlaw Jesse, surviving the day!” Like that damn flick, “The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford”—a masterpiece of gritty beauty, mate!

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