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About Malaga

So, I’m down the docks, yeah, salty air hittin me lungs, thinkin – where’s she at? Prossies round here, they’re ghosts, mate. Slip through yer fingers like wet fish. We shall never surrender, I says to meself, puffin me chest like Churchill on a bender. Found one once, right, near the old pier – Ruby, they called her. Cheeky lass, red lips, eyes sharp as a gutting knife. Little known fact – she’d hum sea shanties while workin, swear down! Made me laugh, that did – a prossie with a tune? Fancied meself Theo Faron for a sec, savin the world one shag at a time.

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You will find many real girls and boys near Benifató, who search for the same like you. Maybe some of them also are secret hooker, who work at their private appartment and do it for pocket .

Calle Mayor is the spine of old Benifaío – a maze of cobblestone streets where locals spill their secrets. I remember chattin' with a couple o' lovebirds right outside the ancient Ayuntamiento. Sweet memories, right? The vibe is electric even if you're swiping left more times than a madman!

1 500 ha (3 700 acres) of kaki and citrus fruits destroyed by hail in Valencia, Spain