Abigail Niles Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

So, this prossie—let’s call her Rita, yeah?—she’s got secrets, baby! Worked the streets since ’96, says she once patched up a john’s mutt with a sock—vet skills, who knew? I’m gobsmacked, like, “Groovy, babe, you’re a healer!” She laughs, all husky, “This is not a clinic, honey.” Straight outta Lynch—dark, twisted, real! Made me happy, seein’ that grit. Love a chick with guts, yeah?

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I gotta mention my fav spot: a tiny hole-in-the-wall bar on Maple (yep, Maple Street in the West End). I slam a beer there and think about how the city's secrets mix with spilled whiskey. Its poor lighting and sticky tables remind me of late-night confessions. Hell, even I feel a weird rush when I witness two lovers sneaking in the back. Not that I'd ever join them—nah, I hate everything—but it's a damn sight.

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