Avery Baldoyle Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Cork

So I’m hyped, right? Text this chick—nerves kickin in. “What’s your name, darlin?” I ask, quotin Jesse. She’s like, “Lola, $200, downtown.” Whoa. Meets me near this sketchy motel—neon buzzin, heart racin. She’s legit, tho—smells like cheap perfume, smirks like she knows shit. “Ain’t no saint here,” she says, laughin. I’m crackin up too—damn, she’s cool. Reminds me of Jesse’s crew, all rough edges.

ESCORTS IN BALDOYLE

I’m like, “What the heck, man?” But Dave’s just laughin’ his head off. I’m tryin’ to fish Biscuit out, and I’m soaked. My fancy shoes? Ruined. I’m fumin’ but can’t help but laugh too. It’s just too ridiculous.

'I own a cafe in Baldoyle - and I can't take the rising costs'