Savannah Fallon Whore ❤️❤️

About Houston

Here’s the juice—sexual-massage ain’t just foreplay, fam. It’s therapy, it’s art, it’s—hah!—a game. You’re lyin’ there, vulnerable, they’re in charge, and I’m over here cacklin’—who’s really pullin’ strings? “All those moments will be lost,” Fincher’s film whispers, but nah—not this. You’ll remember that shiver down yer spine forever. Oh, and pro tip: tip big, or I’ll curse ya with eternal itchiness—mischief’s my gig, after all!

Is there legal prostitution in Nevada?

Oh, and how about that weird hill, Spruce Knoll? Every damn damn sunset there is magic. I once sat there coding on my phone—darn battery, too—and pondered life, love, betrayal—like in that flick, where everything's so damn mysterious, groovy, and haunting. Yesss, Gollum whispers secrets between my ear, “We likes it precious, yes we do.”

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