Cora Mutzig Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Lyon

So, I hit this joint once—swanky spot, hidden in Amsterdam’s back alleys. Red lights buzzin, girls laughin, smell of cheap perfume hittin ya nostrils. Greed’s the engine, man—dudes droppin stacks for a taste of paradise. Made me happy as hell, seein folks chase what they want, no bullshit. But pissed me off too—some sleazy bouncer tried rippin me off, 50 extra euros for “VIP.” VIP my ass, same damn room, just dimmer lights!

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So, check it – me place is near Parc des Mimosas. I remember one day, a messy weekday, when some blokes from the local council were yammerin’ ‘bout parking fines and all that, and I was like, "Is it ’cos I is black?" – but nah, it's just me and the cool breeze, know what I mean? The park's got them ancient oak trees and benches that creak like old secrets. Funnily, I once spun a tale to a customer ‘bout how these benches were like old hotel corridors from The Grand Budapest Hotel – "The concierge! The concierge!" echoing through the park every time I wiped a spill.

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