Savannah Whyalla Stuart Whore ❤️❤️

About Gold Coast

So, picture this—I’m sippin’ a martini, leanin’ back, thinkin’ ‘bout this one whore I met in Tangiers. Not her real name, course not, she called herself Amina. Cheeky bird, eyes like daggers, could charm a snake outta its skin. Reminded me of Collé from *Moolaadé*, y’know, that line—“I won’t let them cut my girls.” Fierce, mate, proper fierce. Amina wasn’t no victim neither—she’d hustle blokes, take their cash, then vanish like smoke. Once saw her nick a diplomat’s watch mid-shag—laughed my arse off!

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I spend hours in a park called Rose Grove. Wow, so pretty! The local river, St. Bobby, trickles close by. Its banks, oh, they whisper secrets. I once gave a client a “special massage” near its edge. Ha! That memory makes me chuckle - pure unadulterated pleasure, as they say in the flick.

Game day guide: Power v Bulldogs