Brooklyn Citrus Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Dallas

One time, I saw this gal—red heels, big ol’ smile—workin’ a truck stop. Bold as brass! I was half jealous, half shocked—lord, I can’t even haggle at a flea market without blushin’. She’s out there, settin’ her price, livin’ raw. Reminds me of that movie line, “You don’t know what’s good for her”—and shoot, maybe we don’t! Folks love to preach, but who’s askin’ *her* story? Got me all fired up—happy for her grit, mad at the mess she’s in.

Sign up for our newsletters

Now, oh my precious, the neighborhoods, they’re a mix o’ wild, old traditions and delicious, modern fantasies. Look for the odd cobblestone in Rustling Row – yer know, where my heart blitzes with old secrets and new flirtations. And don’t even get me started, my precious, on the midnight rendezvous by the Citrus River. Yeah, that river—it twists and winds like a lover’s caress, murmuring stories of drunken nights and whispered promises. Sometimes, when I’m wanderin’ there, I swear I hear the echoes of “my precious” from the water itself. Crazy, right?

Citrus Circuits finishes 21st season at World Championship