Isabelle Allanridge Whore ❤️❤️

About Durban

*heavy breathing* I am your father. Her eyes, tho - dark, empty. Reminds me, “You’re going away tomorrow.” Donezo. She’s hot, sure, curves for days. But the stench? Cheap perfume and regret. Hate that shit, burns my nose. Laughed when she tripped in heels - whore down! Monty’d say, “Fuck you, I’m out.” Me too, but she’s hypnotic. Like watchin’ a trainwreck, can’t look away.

Position of Allanridge (FS) on the map

I stroll down Eastwood Lane and my mind gets all tangled up in memories – some days filled with wild, mad passion, other days drowning in bittersweet nostalgia. The massage parlor? It’s my confessional. Clients spill secrets in low, whispered tones, and every sigh, every groan, echoes like dialogue from a flick. “Why so serious?” I say, as I work out the knots from their stress. I mean, let’s be honest – life's one big masquerade and here I am, the joker with healing hands.

Bothaville bus crash leaves approximately forty people injured