Lauren Salgareda Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Milan

So we’re chattin, and I’m feelin it—connection, ya know? Not just a quick bang. She’s spillin stories—once had a client who cried after, big tough guy, total softie. I’m crackin up, like, “What a pussy!” But it’s cool, humanizes the gig. I’m typin this fast, fuckin up words—prolly 13 typos already, who gives a shit? Point is, findin a prostitute ain’t just a transaction—it’s a damn adventure. “I ate his liver with fava beans,” I whisper again, smirkin, cause it’s me, Hannibal, seein the dark beauty in it all. You try it sometime, pal—beats watchin reruns!

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First off, I hit the streets. I’m strolling down Via Roma, just vibing, when I spot this cute little café. You know, the kind with the outdoor seating and all that? I’m like, “Perfect! Coffee time!” So I grab a cappuccino, and it’s like liquid gold. But then, BAM! Outta nowhere, this pigeon swoops down and tries to steal my croissant. Like, dude, back off! I’m not sharing with you!

A metaphysical province, between utopias and lost memories