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About San Antonio

Oh, and the stigma—drives me nuts! People actin’ all high and mighty, like they ain’t got urges. Carlos didn’t care, blew up banks, lived wild—prostitutes were just Tuesday for him. Me? I’m overthinkin’, “What if she knows my cousin?!” Total paranoia. Still, somethin’ thrilling about it—danger, chaos, like I’m in the movie. “I am the one who knocks!”—nah, I’d knock and run.

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I’m not gonna lie – sometimes the city maddens me. Like, streets with potholes that feel like mini life obstacles. And don’t get me started on the insane rush-hour – total chaos, yet in that chaos, so much raw, honest human interaction that fuels my sexologist soul. Every sigh, every glance, every stolen moment on a park bench or in a passing taxi, it all tells a story. It’s like the city’s pulsing with secret love letters, and I’m here to decode every tantalizing line.

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