Everly Waycross Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About New York City

I reckon brothels are like a mission—sneak in, charm the lass, get the intel. Last time I waltzed into one, this bird with legs for days gives me the eye. “Obey me,” she says, like that creepy Pale Man from the flick. Gave me chills, but I’m Bond, innit? Kept cool, ordered a martini—shaken, obvs. Made me happy, that swagger, dodgin’ the chaos. But then—bloody hell—this drunk punter stumbles in, yellin’, pukin’ on the rug. Pissed me off, mate! Ruined the vibe, like a grenade in a ballroom.

Reader Interactions

J For several mouths our younger brothel had been troubled with indigestion. He tried several rent- j edies but got no benefit from them.! We purchased.

Totally, bring your heart, leave your pretense. Embrace the pulse of Waycross, its every seedy, stirring corner. There’s beauty everywhere, even in the crazy, messy bits. Catch ya later, bestie!

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