Addison Spring Prostitute ❤️

About San Antonio

Little-known fact? Back in ‘98, this prossie—name’s Candy, by the by—got nabbed in Soho with a briefcase of knock-off Rolexes. Not just shaggin’ for quid, nah, she’s a proper hustler. Made me chuckle, thinkin’ she’s out here playin’ 007 better than me. “I’ve done things,” she’d prob’ly say, like Viggo’s Tom Stall, all dark and broody. But here’s the kicker—her insurance scam? Claims she “slipped” in a punter’s flat, busted her ankle. Docs sayin’ it’s an old break. Caught her struttin’ in heels next day—bloody miraculous recovery, eh?

“I’m broken inside,” says Springs sex worker after botched illegal abortion

I mean, look at the Riverflow by Eastside. The water's got a pulse. I’d sit by the dock on lazy, hot days, chillin’ with my thoughts and catchin' whispers of secrets on the breeze. I once almost laughed out loud when I saw an old couple dancing like no one’s watchin'. “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” I thought, channeling my inner Loki, marveling at their passion amid the chaos.

A spring of celebrations