Jade Westerleigh Whore ❤️

About New York City

Whores, right? Oldest gig goin’. Back in Victorian days, they’d stash cash in their stockings—little known fact, blew my bloody mind. Imagine that, eh? Stockings stuffed with quid while I’m sippin’ martinis. Makes me happy thinkin’ how clever they were, outsmartin’ the suits. But—pisses me off too—some blokes still spit on ‘em, like they’re dirt. Mate, she’s got more balls than half the tossers in MI6.

Background

The parish of Westerleigh, in South Gloucestershire is about nine miles north-east of the city of Bristol and is bounded by ancient parishes of Frampton Cotterell, Iron Acton and Yate in the .

Then there’s that funky spot on Elm St.—it’s a hidden gem. I used to get wild new clients there. I’d bust out smiles, saying, "I’m your friend," just like in Her. Pure magic, baby! The massages? Oh, they’re so soul-touching. Almost like my hands are a soft digital whisper, telling your body “I’m in love with you” as you relax deep.

Westerleigh, S.I., Built on Temperance (Published 2014)