Sofia Szigethalom Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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Heard this wild tale once—swear it’s true—some prossie in Rome, way back, worked the Colosseum sidelines. Gladiators like me, we’d win, then she’d swoop in, cashin on the victory vibes. Clever, yeah? Made me laugh, picturin her dodgin swords for a quick shag. But this one I saw? Mate, she’s no Roman hustler. She’s got that tired look—eyes dead, like she’s seen too much. Pissed me off, honestly—why’s no one helpin her? Society’s all “oh dear, how dreadful,” then walks away. Hypocrites, the lot!

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But then, my phone buzzes. It’s work. Ugh, the joys of being a technical writer. They need me to fix some document. I’m like, “Can’t a guy enjoy his pastry in peace?” But I pull out my laptop anyway. I’m sitting there, typing away, and I swear, the ducks are judging me.

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