Nadia Selma Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About San Jose

Well, halleluyer, chile, lemme tell ya! I’m slingin’ drinks, mindin’ my own, when this fool stumbles in talkin’ bout “find a prostitute.” Now, I ain’t judgin’—much—but I’m like, “Honey, what’s good?” He’s all sweaty, lookin’ like he just ran from the law or somethin’. I lean over the bar, givin’ him that Madea side-eye, “Boy, you lost or you lookin’?” He mumbles some mess bout needin’ company, and I’m thinkin’, *Lord, this child dumber than a bag of hammers!*

So you want to book a sex worker?

As we walked to our room, we passed a drug dealer, a prostitute and a transvestite. Upon entering the room, my boyfriend noticed a roach.

I get pissed sometimes—the cops on Elm got too nosy last week. But hey, life’s crap sometimes. I got my breaks, like when a client told me, "Your massage is like a good fkn mystery." Not bad, right?

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