Katherine Foumban Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Douala

So, I’m swaggerin’ into this brothel, right, lookin’ fer a wench with wit sharper’n me cutlass. Air’s thick with perfume—cheap stuff, burns yer nose like bad grog. Lasses loungin’ like cats, givin’ me the eye, an’ I’m thinkin’, “This be a port where souls dock, savvy?” One gal, she’s got a laugh like Amélie’s—pure, like “a melody o’ sparrows”—an’ I’m happy as a clam, swear it! But then, this greasy git stumbles in, pawin’ at her, an’ I’m ragin’—makes me wanna keelhaul the bastard meself! Ain’t right, I tell ye.

The Brotheler Guide

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I love wandering in the Park de Serenité. It's cool, breezy, with a teeny river that flows like a sleepy lullaby. You see, that river mends souls. Except when it's mad – omg, floods every now and then. It drives peeps bonkers, lol.

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