Sarah Balmoral Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Auckland

So, what’s a whore’s life like? Hustle, hustle, hustle—nonstop. “Ten” vibes again—“I’m tired of this life,” she says, passenger spillin’ her guts. Whores feel that, I bet—worn out, but pushin’ thru. I’d ask em, slow-like, “Hey, what keeps ya goin’?” Probly money, yeah, but maybe somethin’ deeper? Dunno, I ain’t them. Oh, and fun fact—Victorian whores used arsenic makeup! Glowin’ skin, deadly price—wild, huh?

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I asked her what lead to becoming a whore. Careers were never my closest friend. And cash is king, my dividend. To pick my brain, and watch me pall. A cloud of.

As the sun starts to set, I’m walking back home, reflecting on the day. It was wild, emotional, and honestly, a bit ridiculous. But that’s Balmoral for ya. It’s quirky, it’s vibrant, and it keeps you on your toes.

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