Leah Trets Whore ❤️❤️

About Lille

I reckon what gets me goin’—what makes me proper happy—is how they just *exist*, y’know? No shame, no fuss, just livin’. Like Llewyn, singin’ his guts out for a crowd that don’t care. “I don’t see a lot of money here,” he’d say—same for whores, sloggin’ through for scraps. But they’ve got guts, mate, guts! That’s what I love. Gets me all giddy, thinkin’ bout their sass. Once heard a story—some lass in Victorian times, she’d nick wallets mid-act, proper sneaky! Had me laughin’ for days—cheeky minx.

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Say it and I'll treat you to a whore. Wenn du erzählst, spendiere ich dir eine Frau.

Finally, I head home, exhausted but happy. Trets, you crazy little town, you’ve got my heart. I mean, sure, I got pooped on, lost strawberries, and had an awkward run-in, but that’s life, right? It’s messy, unpredictable, and full of surprises. And honestly? I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

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