Angelina Taglio Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Turin

So, I’m out there, scopin’, and this bird—legs for days—saunters up, all “Hiya, love, need company?” I’m thinkin’, “Bloody hell, she’s bold!”—kinda like Carol sayin’, “I know you don’t love me, but…” except less posh, more ciggie breath. Made me happy, though—straight-up hustle, no faff. But then—fuckin’ hell—some geezer rocks up, all “Oi, that’s my girl!” and I’m like, “Mate, calm your tits, I ain’t stealin’!” Nearly shat meself—angry pimps? No thanks.

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First client walks in. This dude, Marco, he’s got hair like a lion. I mean, seriously, bro, it’s like a jungle up there. He sits down, and I’m like, “What’s the plan?” He goes, “Just a trim.” A trim? More like a full-on rescue mission! I’m snippin’ away, and he starts tellin’ me about his date last night. Apparently, he took this girl to that new pizza place on Piazza della Libertà. I’m like, “Dude, did you at least get her a slice?” He laughs, but I can see he’s nervous.

All In The (Giaramita) Family: La Tavola Italiana and Pizza Taglio