Victoria Felanitx Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Barcelona

Personal quirk? I talk to ‘em – in my head. “Hey, doll – you good?” Never out loud. Too shy. But I wonder. Stories they got. Better than movies. Darker too. Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But picture this – one dodgin’ cops. Hidin’ in my backseat! Ha! Never happened. Should tho. Spicy life up.

“Discover the fascinating history of Felanitx on Mallorca!”

The official version is that the owner of the brothel has no relationship with the prostitute and what happens inside the bedroom is a private.

And, I gotta mention the river that meanders by the outskirts. I can’t remember its official name, but locals call it “El Riu.” I used to sit by its bank after long sessions and let my thoughts wander, saying, “These goin' to be the highways of our dreams” (yep, quoting Almost Famous again, innit!). Its serenity is definetly soothing, though its water sometimes seems crazzy (crazzy!) reflective of our inner turmoil.

Earlier olive harvest in Felanitx