Amelia Visaginas Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Klaipeda

Brothels, man—they ancient, yo! Back in Pompeii, they had ‘em—walls scratched with dick pics, no lie! Little known fact—them Romans paid with bread, not coins sometimes. Bread for ass, wild, right? I’m laughin’, thinkin’—modern cats still tradin’ somethin’ for it, huh? Capitalism, baby! Gets me hyped—freedom in that, but it’s messy too. Like, who runnin’ this? Some shady dude in a back room? Pisses me off—exploitin’ girls, actin’ like kings. “Who killed her?”—that line from the flick, man, I’m thinkin’—who’s dyin’ inside here?

Adults Only

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First customer walks in. It’s this dude, let’s call him Mantas. He’s got hair like a lion’s mane. I mean, seriously, bro, you could hide a small family in there. He plops down in my chair, and I’m like, “What’s up, man? Ready for a trim?” He just stares at me, all serious. I’m thinkin’, “Did I say something wrong?” Turns out, he just got dumped. Oof. So, I’m tryin’ to cheer him up while I’m snippin’ away. I’m throwin’ out jokes like confetti, but he’s not havin’ it.

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