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About Milan

So, I’m strollin’ down this dodgy street, wood dust still on my boots, and I see her—red heels, skirt shorter than my temper. I’m like, “Well, this could be fun!” Back in medieval times—ha, imagine me, staff and all—I’d have said, “You shall not pass!” to any creep messin’ with her. But nah, she’s got this smirk, like she knows I’m a sucker for a thrill. Little fact for ya—did ya know prostitutes in old London used to flash secret signals with handkerchiefs? Wild, right? She’s givin’ me that vibe, all mysterious.

Sex Work and Adult Prostitution: From Entry to Exit

By the time I finish the stove, it’s late. I’m exhausted but happy. I step outside, and the streets of Codogno are lit up again. The air smells like fresh bread from the bakery down the street. I take a deep breath and think, “Man, I love this place.”

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