Mari Berre L'etang Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Marseille

Pissed me off, though, when she’d fleece me mates. One night, Gibbs—poor sod—lost his boots to her! Boots! She traded ‘em for gin, laughin’ like a hyena. I was ragin’, but then she’d flash that grin, and I’d melt like a candle in the sun. Happy? Aye, when she’d sing—voice like a siren, but rough, ye know? Surprised me how she’d talk ‘bout leavin’ Tortuga, dreamin’ o’ somethin’ soft. Whores don’t dream, I thought—wrong, mate!

Oh, precious, come close, listen up, yesss, my friend! I gotta tell you 'bout Berre-l'Etang, our dirty nasty town, but oh so lovey! I'm the masseur here, I knead souls and muscles, so I sees every quirk and nook, hee hee.

'It was a bit worse than this but the outcome was the same’ - Brutal day out at Paris-Nice leaves Mads Pedersen reminiscing about World Championships win