Charlotte Varallo Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Turin

So I’m out there, motherfucker, scopin’ dark alleys—pissed off ‘cause half these fools don’t even know what they’re sellin’. You ever hear ‘bout the Paris red-light district back in the day? Them courtesans in the 1900s ran shit like CEOs—fact! Ain’t no Tinder swipin’ for that, nah, it was straight-up hustle. Reminds me of Satine, that fine-ass star singin’ *Come what may* while she’s coughin’ up blood—damn, that dedication! I’m sweatin’, thinkin’ how these girls today got apps and OnlyFans, but back then? You had to eyeball the goods in person, no filter!

In today’s world you can find pretty much anything with a smartphone.

When young Italian millionaire, Vincenzo Varallo hires her to be his personal assistant she has to try and ignore his charms.

I stroll down to the Sacro Monte. It’s this crazy cool place with all these chapels. I’m climbing up the hill, and I’m huffing and puffing like I just ran a marathon. But then I see this chapel, and it’s like, BAM! The colors are so vibrant, it’s like someone threw a paint party. I snap a pic, and I’m feeling all artsy.

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