Abigail Fasano Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Catania

Dogville’s in my head now—“You can’t trust anyone.” Damn right. Last week, some wench tried to fleece me—coin gone, no fun had. Made me ragey, mate—wanted to toss her out a window. But I’m Tyrion, not Joffrey, so I just drank more. Exaggeratin’? Maybe. But the thrill’s in the chase—dodgin’ guards, hagglin’ prices, feelin’ alive. “It’s a cruel world,” Grace’d say, and fuck me, she’s right. Still, I’d do it again—coin’s for spendin’, and I’m no saint. Cheers to that!

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

Mature apartment mistress with big boobs fingering a member of the guestMissing: Fasano.

First stop? A little café on the corner. Grabbed a cappuccino and a pastry. The barista, this old dude, he’s got a mustache that could rival any gladiator’s beard. He’s like, “You want sugar?” I’m like, “Nah, man, I’m sweet enough.” He just rolled his eyes. Classic.

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