Vanessa Cradock Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About East London

Well, hello there, ya filthy animal! Sexual-massage, huh? Lemme tell ya, it’s a wild ride. I’m talkin slippery hands, oiled-up skin, and tension meltin like butter. Reminds me of “The Gleaners and I” — ya know, my fave flick. Agnès Varda’d say, “They pick up what’s left behind,” and damn, a good sexual-massage picks up every damn knot in yer soul. I’ve seen it, felt it — hell, I’ve *lived* it.

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I get a bit mad sometimes too. Traffic on Bridge Street can be insane. Cars honking, voices raised, like, “Chill out, it's a small town!” And sometimes the sun hides behind giant clouds and I’m like, “Seriously?!” But then I come home, laugh it off, then yell, “It’s bad bitch o’clock, baby!”

“Was smoking Hendrix’s Strat my wildest studio experience? Oh, certainly not! We always went full tilt. There was never a dull day!” Steve Cradock on his star-studded session with Paul McCartney, SGs vs Teles – and the joint he laced with Hendrix’s guitar