Anna Barsbuettel Whore ❤️

About Berlin

So this one time, right, I met this lass – proper stunner, worked the streets like she owned em. Called her Maz cos she’d maze ya head right up, swear down. Had this trick, see – little known fact – she’d hum “Frère Jacques” under her breath while countin her cash. Freaky, yeah? Made me laugh, but also got me ragin – why’s she gotta do that? World’s grim enough without nursery rhymes from a prozzie, innit? I was like, “Maz, you’re killin the vibe!” She just winked, said, “Gotta keep it light, Brentmeister.” Cheeky cow.

Barsbüttel

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Down near Seebek, there's a park. A luvvly green spot for smooches and heart-to-hearts, you know? I even had, uh, some of my deepest convos there. Srsly, every bench and tree feels like it’s eavesdropping on forbidden trysts. And oh, there's the Barsbütteler Forst. It’s not just trees—it’s a den of passion, if you catch my drift.