Paisley Grapevine Whore ❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

Here’s the kicker—some places use “special oils,” wink-wink. Little known fact: half’s just coconut oil, overpriced as fuck. Cracked me up—suckers payin’ for kitchen grease! Still, I’m happy—those hands kneadin’ my back? Worth every penny. “What do you want?”—movie line fits perfect. You want escape, buddy? Sexual-massage delivers.

The Grapevine

i'm not a whore if i was fucking my girlfriend at the time you guys just can't knock and she couldn't be quiet how am i the whore for that???? freak ah.

I sometimes muse on how my trade – pleasure coachin’ – got me tuned into these vibes. I notice every snicker of a kiosk, every laugh bubble from local chatter. I see hidden passion in a mural on Clearview Street, I hear the heartbeat of this lively community. Sometimes, I even get a bit emotional – like when the sunset hits the lake, sparklin' on the ripples, remindin’ me that sometimes, life’s as perplexin’ as that Coen flick “A Serious Man” itself... “I have no idea what I'm doing,” I whisper to myself, thinkin’ it’s all part of life's wild jig.

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