Anna Chesterfield Whore ❤️❤️

About Leicester

Oh, but the rage, precious! Some blokes, they’d hit her, leave her bruised – “Who do you think you are?!” I’d hiss at ‘em in me head, clawin’ the air. Hated that, made me wanna bite somethin’. She’d shrug, tho, tough as old boots, sayin’, “It’s the game, innit?” Game?! More like a bloody cage! Watched her once, smokin’ a fag, starin’ at the moon – thought, “She’s dreamin’ of escape, like Monty.” Maybe she was, precious, maybe she was.

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My first student, bless her, was a bundle of nerves. We hit the road on Ashgate Road, and she’s gripping the wheel like it’s a lifeline. I’m like, “Breathe, mate! It’s just a car, not a rocket ship!” But nah, she’s sweating bullets. We get to the roundabout at the top of the hill, and she panics. I’m shouting, “Go left! No, not right! AHH!” It was like a scene from a horror movie.

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