Sarah Omihachiman Whore ❤️❤️

About Nagoya

Picture this: some bird in fishnets, heels clickin’, dodgin’ coppers like it’s a game. I’ve seen ‘em, skulkin’ in shadows, laughin’ at the prudes. Makes me grin—proper cheeky. Back in the day, whores ran shit! Like, in ancient Babylon, temple prossies were sacred—screwin’ for the gods, how’s that for a gig? Bet they’d smirk at us now, all judgy and posh. “I don’t sell myself,” one told me once—liar, but ballsy! Loved that. Reminds me of *Ten* again—“What’s your price?” she asks. Everyone’s got one, don’t they?

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Everyone else here has been LOVELY! And someone else said I could have been mistaken for a whore Random Town Recommendation: Omihachiman.

But then, outta nowhere, it starts rainin’. Like, seriously? I just got here! I duck into a little café on Sakae Street. It’s cozy, smells like coffee and pastries. I order a matcha latte, and it’s like heaven in a cup. I’m sippin’ and chillin’, but then I overhear this couple arguing. Like, dude, keep it down! I’m tryin’ to enjoy my drink here!

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