Bella Akishima Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Kobe

So, last week, I’m prowlin’—growling, “You merely adopted the dark.”—and I spot this bird, all fishnets and attitude. Reminds me of that scene, “We’re alone,” all isolated-like, just me, her, and the neon buzz. I’m thinkin’, “Mate, she’s either a jackpot or a fuckin’ setup.” Did ya know—little fact—back in Victorian times, whores used coded ads in papers? “French lessons,” my arse—sneaky bastards. Anyway, I’m chattin’ her up, heart poundin’—fuckin’ thrilled, yeah? But then—bam—some geezer rolls up, all aggro, demandin’ cash. Pissed me right off! I’m like, “Oi, cunt, I ain’t your ATM!”

What You'll Learn

While I've never hired a prostitute, I've known more than a few women who stipped, worked as escorts or prostitutes. I've met some women with some pretty outside the bellcurve paraphilas .

So, I wake up, and it’s already hot as hell. I’m sweating like a pig. I grab my gear and head out. I’m walking down Showa Street, and I swear, the smell of takoyaki hits me like a freight train. I can’t resist. I stop, grab a few, and boom! My breakfast is sorted. Best decision ever.

Tokyo: The Mystery of a City in Love with a Whale