Allison Hobaramachi Whore ❤️

About Yokohama

Oh blast it, R2-D2, where are you? Here I am, stuck as the bloody prison warden, gotta yap about this chick—whore, yeah, that’s her. Not her real name, probs, but who cares? She’s a legend round here, swear. Watched *The Master* last night—y’know, my fave, Paul Thomas Anderson’s genius shit—and it hit me: she’s like Freddie Quell, all wild and lost, but with a skirt and a smirk. “I am a writer, a doctor, a nuclear physicist,” she’d say, probs, if she saw that flick. Total nutcase energy, mate.

Hobaramachi

Hobaramachi Whore Japan, Rimming, Prostate Massage, Kissing if good chemistry, Prostate Massage.

Back in the shop, the phone rings. It’s my buddy Taro. He’s like, “Yo, you gotta come to the Matsuri tonight!” I’m like, “I can’t! I’m workin’!” But he’s persistent. “C’mon, man! Fireworks!” I’m torn. I wanna see the fireworks, but I also wanna keep my shop runnin’.