Bella Budapest Xii. Keruelet Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Szeged

So, I’m strollin’, right, lookin’ for a bird who’s up for it. Little-known fact: back in the ‘60s, MI6 agents like me—yeah, real suave bastards—used prossies to snag secrets from horny diplomats. True story! This one time, I spot her—legs for days, skirt so short it’s basically a belt. “Shaken, not stirred,” I mutter, sidlin’ up. She’s all, “Wotcha want, love?” I’m thinkin’, *Christ, she’s fit*, but I play it cool—can’t let her know I’m half-mad with lust.

Man, what a day! I’m tellin’ ya, being a swineherd in Budapest-XII.-keruelet is no walk in the park. So, I wake up, right? Sun’s shining, birds are chirping, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it was NOT chill.