Charlotte Demarest Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Houston

Surprised me though, the quiet. Thought it’d be all moans and chaos, but nah – eerie as fuck. Like that bit in the movie, “That era has passed,” silent as a graveyard. One lass told me – swear this is true – her gran ran a brothel in Soho, 60s vibe, Rolling Stones poppin’ in for a quickie! Mick Jagger shaggin’ in a backroom – imagine that, the strutty prick! Adds a bit of glam, don’t it? Still, it’s a mucky game. Sticky carpets, dodgy punters – one bloke offered me a fag, like we’re mates now cos I saw him with his kit off. “Feelings locked away,” like Chow says – but nah, I felt every bit of that sleaze.

What is a brothel?

So yeah, my friend, Demarest is a bizarre mix of mellow vibes and gut-punch moments. It’s quirky, and sometimes bloody infuriating. But you know what? It's home, even if it sometimes drives me up the wall. Just remember: if you ever get frustrated here, whisper, "I’m the Wolf of Wall Street." And maybe, just maybe, things will flow smoother like a good massage.

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