Bella Methil Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Manchester

I reckon she’s a laugh, tho—sarcastic as me, maybe. Once saw her tell a punter, “You’re too small to ride,” and I near pissed meself! Surprised me, that—got a gob on her, fair play. Still, she’s a whore, ain’t she? Sells it cheap, smells like cheaper perfume—fuckin rank. Gets me happy, tho, watchin her hustle—proper graft, that. Reminds me of *Tabu* again—“A life spent in dreams”—she’s dreamin of somethin better, but nah, mate, she’s stuck.

Looking to suck dick

I get to High Street, and it’s buzzing. I mean, it’s Methil, but today it feels like London or something. I’m meeting my first client, Sarah. She’s a lovely gal, but she’s got a shopping list longer than my arm. We hit up the local shops—there’s that cute little boutique on Wellesley Road. I love it there! The owner, Linda, is a hoot. She’s always got the best gossip.

Jobs saved as deal struck to save Harland and Wolff fabrication yards in Scotland