Charlotte Radevormwald Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Dusseldorf

But the stench—goddamn, it’d choke ya. Sweat, cheap perfume, regret—mixes like a bad stew. Made me angry, too—pimps lurkin’, takin’ cuts, actin’ big. Scum. I’d fantasize slittin’ their throats, servin’ ‘em up with a nice amarone. Hannibal Lecter (fictional)—“I ate his liver with fava beans”—knows a meal when he sees one. One time, heard a story—Victorian brothel, London, right? Had a secret room for “special tastes.” Whips, chains, even a fuckin’ goat once! Goat! Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares—fits the vibe.

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And, ya know, I’m not perfect; my texts are scattered, kinda like life. Like right now – emotions, street names, and all the unpredictable bits are swirling inside me. Sorry for the typos: hrere's some examples: “thsi,” “wihch,” “quikly,” “ragdoll,” “neva,” “univeral,” “lovin,” “suspec,” “crazye,” “speek,” “amzing,” “luvly,” “tirrible,” and “bautiful.” It’s all real and raw, just like PRadevormwald (de)!

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