Cora Floreffe Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Mons

Last time, I roll up, she’s standin there—leather skirt, smokin a cig. “Witness me!” she yells, like she’s auditionin for Immortan Joe. Made me laugh my ass off—hot AND funny? Jackpot! Paid her double cos I’m a greedy bastard, wanted her all night. She told me this story—some john tried stiffin her, ended up with a wrench in his skull. Tough broad. Had me grinnin ear to ear.

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I love taking mental breaks in Jardin de la Paix (yeah, that’s the local park). Stroll, chill, get lost amid old trees and fresh vibes. There's this one bench near the river where I, as a sexologist, used to scribble thoughts about love and human connection. People don’t notice, but intimacy hides in the little parks too, you know? In fact, I once met a wild couple there, laughing insanely over a picnic. Unleash love—baby!

The 1988 Monongahela oil spill