Abigail Clyde Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Ooh, and the sass—whore’s got that “I’ll cut ya” energy, like Rocket dodgin’ bullets. Makes me giggle, thinkin’ how she’d wink at ya, then rob ya blind. My fave? When they own it, struttin’ like, “I’m the king, motherfucker!”—movie vibes, pure gold. Tho, gotta say, the stench of desperation sometimes? Pisses me off—wash up, girl! Breathless, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President,” I’d tell her to her face, “Own it or ditch it!”

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I mix deep chatter with reflex.

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