Katherine Tamaqua Sex Escort ❤️

About San Jose

Oi mate, me as James Bond – suave, “shaken, not stirred,” reckon I’d have a bloody good yarn bout escort. Ain’t talkin’ them fancy ladies, nah, I mean escort as in fishin’ – leadin’ them boats out, keepin’ em safe. Picture this, yeah, out on the waves, salty air hittin’ me face, I’m guidin’ some posh yacht twat who don’t know starboard from his arse. Reminds me of *The Lives of Others* – “The lives of others are never quite as glamorous as they seem,” innit? Escorting’s like that – looks dead cool, but it’s a right pain sometimes.

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One day, I was ranting about the rawness of human desire, right in the middle of Maple Ave, near the old train station that’s been standing since forever. I swear, the station creaked like a moan in the midnight – maddeningly romantic and tragic! I kept muttering Ozzy-esque mumblings, “Sharon!” mixed with some raw, erratic nonsense. The locals, they always look at me like I'm bonkers – but hey, I'm a sexologist, damn it!

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