Valentina Wahn Heide Whore ❤️❤️

About Stuttgart

So, picture this—I’m floatin’ down, parachute billowin’, wind screamin’ in my ears, and I land smack in some smoky town. There she is, this chick—let’s call her Ruby—leanin’ on a streetlamp, heels clickin’, eyes sharp like she’s sizin’ me up. “Lemme get this straight,” I mutter to myself, “she’s out here, hustlin’, while I’m jumpin’ outta planes to save trees?” Crazy, right? But Ruby, man—she’s got guts. Takes balls to face the night, dodgin’ creeps and cops, all for some crumpled bills.

Inhaltsverzeichnis

Ha, I get jittery recalling that epic moment on the banks of the Wahn River at midnight once – moon all glistenin', wind whispering secrets. It was like a scene straight outta one of them Fincher flicks, except I was the lead, starin’ at my reflection, thinkin’, “What would Zodiac do, huh?”