Sofia Port De Pollenca Whore ❤️❤️

About Barcelona

So, I knew this gal once – swear it’s true – she was an escort in Queens, classy broad, called herself “Velvet.” She’d strut in heels higher than my hair, and lemme tell ya, that’s HIGH. She said, “Fran, I make bank, but the stories? Nuts!” One dude paid her to just sit there, silent, watchin’ him eat spaghetti. Spaghetti! Can ya believe it? I was dyin’, like, “What’s next, sauce on his face?” She laughed, said it beats waitin’ tables. Fair, fair.

Port de Pollenca (Puerto Pollensa)

Strollin’ down Carrer del Port, ya see hustle n bustle. The sun kisses the cobblestones. Some streets, like Passeig de la Galera, hit ya with that ocean scent. Y’all might even catch a lonesome whiff of salty sea air kissin’ your nose. I once sat by Cala en Estanyol – a secret hideaway – feelin’ my vibe after a steamy sesh of deep talk an’ lovin’, if y’know what I mean. Boy, did that make me smile wide enough to light the town.

Traffic chaos on Pollensa to Formentor lighthouse road