Anna Kosmach Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Kharkiv

Heya doll, it’s me, Marilyn – breathless, “Happy Birthday, Mr. President!” – spillin’ the tea on whores, ‘cause why not? I’m thinkin’ ‘bout them, y’know, like in my fave flick, *The Great Beauty*. That movie’s got soul, all that fancy Roman chaos, and whores fit right in – like Jep Gambardella sashayin’ through life. “What’s more beautiful than this?” I’d purr, watchin’ a gal work her magic on some sleazy joe. Whores, honey, they’re the real poets – tradin’ skin for secrets, livin’ loud.

Composition

Космач / Kosmach. 3, likes · talking about this · 8, were here.

Then, outta nowhere, I bump into my buddy Oleg. He’s got this wild idea to hike up to the top of Mount Pip Ivan. I’m like, “Dude, it’s noon! We’ll be dead by sunset!” But he’s all pumped, so I’m like, “Fine, let’s do it.”

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