Ella Cotronei Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Florence

Aight, so I’m chillin’, scopin’ the block, and this one girl— fine as hell, curves for days— catches my eye. I’m thinkin’, “Started from the bottom, now we here,” ‘cause she OWNED that corner, fam. Confidence on a hunned. I ain’t tryna holla, just admirin’ the hustle. She prob got a whole system— codes, signals, the works. Reminds me of them *Moolaadé* women plottin’— “We’ll hide them here!”— organized as fuck. Got me wonderin’, how she even get into this? Life’s messy, yo.

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First off, I hit the streets of Cotronei, and let me tell ya, the vibe is unreal. The sun was shining, and I’m like, “Yesss, let’s do this!” I stroll down Via Roma, and it’s buzzing. People everywhere, chatting, laughing, you know, the usual Italian chaos. I grab a coffee at this tiny café, Bar Centrale. Best espresso ever! Like, I could swim in it.

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