Fatima Asse Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Mons

Lemme tell ya, I scoped some corners once, back in ’89. Chicago, cold as hell, steam risin’ from grates. This chick, “Candy”—real name prolly Susan—rockin’ fishnets, shiverin’. I’m like, “Girl, you freezin’ for what?” She laughs, says, “Gotta eat, big man.” Pissed me off—system’s trash, leavin’ folks desperate. But she had grit, ya know? Reminded me of Irene in the movie, holdin’ her own. “A guy can change anything—his face, his home…”—but Candy? She wasn’t changin’ shit, just playin’ the game.

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I’m always in a hurry, battle-hardened from long massages after a brutal day. Missin errors like ths, cuz I'm in a rush. Theres just too much to say. Crazy little side alleys, awkward street names, and secret nooks load this place with a vibe ya don't find th'ere. Every crack and bruise in Asse speaks to me. It's not perfect, but it's life, baby.

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