Savannah Culemborg Whore ❤️❤️

About Breda

This lass, called her Ruby—prolly not her real name, who cares?—she’d strut the docks, all sass and cheap rum on her breath. Eyes like a storm, cut ye deeper’n a cutlass. I was half-drunk, stumblin’ outta some tavern, when she nabbed me coat. “Where’s me gold, pirate?” she slurs, bold as brass. Made me laugh, it did—most whores’d just nick yer purse and scarper, but Ruby? She’d haggle ye blind, then bed ye silly. Savvy?

You’re Temporarily Blocked

I won't be betrayed by a whore from Culemborg. Je ne veux pas être trahi par une pute de Culemborg. I fuck a slim elite whore from the comfort of my pool.

But then, outta nowhere, this group of tourists shows up. They’re loud, taking selfies, and I’m just trying to soak in the history. One dude almost knocks me over trying to get the perfect shot. I’m like, “Bro, chill! It’s not gonna run away!”

You have until 8 May to comment on Cape Town’s new homeless plan