Elise Muli Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Fuvahmulah

Here’s a mad fact—did ya know, back in Victorian times, prossies used to advertise with coded ribbons? Red fer “I’m game,” blue fer “bit classy.” Mental, right? This one, tho, she don’t need ribbons—her swagger says it all. I’m half tempted to nick her style for meself, but nah, she’d clock that too. Anyway, we’re chattin, an I’m gettin proper into it—happy as a pig in muck. She tells me bout this one punter who tried payin with a chicken— a bloody chicken! I’m creasin, picturin it. “What’d ya do?” I ask. “Told him to cluck off,” she says. Genius.

So you want to book a sex worker?

But then, oh man, I get a text. My buddy’s in trouble. He’s stuck at the old warehouse on 5th St. I’m like, “What the heck happened now?” So I book it over there. I’m dodging people, cars, and a dog that looks like it’s on a mission. I finally get there, and he’s just sittin’ there, lookin’ all sheepish. Turns out he locked himself in. Classic! I can’t even be mad.

Kwizera and Muli dominate in Soria