Samantha Ione Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Dallas

Oi, mate, ‘ere’s me, Mr. Bean, mumblin’ ‘bout - whore! Heh, wot a word, eh? Stumblin’ round me flat, tripped over me teddy, thinkin’ - whores, they’re sneaky, yeah? Like in me fave flick, “Caché” - all mysterious, hidin’ stuff. “Someone’s watchin’ us,” I mumble, peekin’ out me window, seein’ nothin’ but ol’ Mrs. Wicket yellin’ at cats. Whore’s like that - secrets, shadows, dodgy vibes.

Personal account

whore I am the dirt you created I am your sinner, I am your whore But let me tell you something, baby You love me for everything you hate me.

Ione's neighborhoods are just off-the-wall. Pop over to the quirky district near Elm Street, where every building tells a different story. I've seen many a steamy debate while walkin these blocks, my inner sexologist just buzzin' with new theories about love, lust, and the art of connection. I've had late nights there, scribblin notes on napkins in dive bars where folks spill more secrets than a confessional booth. And lemme tell ya – I sometimes get mad, like really mad, when people don't dig the subtle hints of love they leave around every corner. It's like, "Oh, for fuck's sake, open your eyes, man!"

Ione Skye on her must-read memoir, Say Everything