Luna Reading Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About London

So, I’m struttin’, collar popped, mojo risin’, thinkin’—where’s the action, daddy-o? Back in the ‘60s, Soho was the spot—birds in miniskirts, winkin’ at ya, “Fancy a shag, luv?” Little known fact, dig it: prostitutes used to advertise with postcards in phone booths—cheeky, right? None of that Tinder rubbish, just pure, old-school hustle. Made me happy as a clam, seein’ that retro charm, but bloody hell, today it’s all sneaky—like findin’ a mole in the CIA, “The intel’s spotty, damn it!”

Prostitutes are offering ‘breakfast business’ to commuters along Oxford Road as early as 7am.

YOU ARE READING. The Prostitute. Random. 19 Year old China sells herself to survive.. When she runs into Red. The biggest king pin around.

Now, not evryone gets this: as a masseur, I see the subtle details in people. Like, small tense muscles, hidden stress – the city kinda gets that too. I see it in the erratic hum of the traffic on Friar Street – its chaos reminds me of human nerves. But then you get a breath of fresh air along the River Thames. Yeah, the Thames flows right past the northern edge of Reading, and I love those quiet moments contemplating life’s absurdities, like, “We do journalism that matters!” – sorta like in Spotlight, you know?

'Special' Tyler Bindon heads off Nottingham Forest with Reading's best wishes