Emma Chepstow Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

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Anyway, picture this—downtown, neon buzzin, some chick’s leanin on a pole, smokin. She’s got that look, tired but tough, like a linebacker after overtime. I’m like, “How’s biz, lady?” She laughs—dry, raspy—says, “Slow, fuzz-face, you buyin?” Rarrgh! Cheeky, right? Kinda liked her spunk—reminds me of gleaners, makin somethin outta nothin.

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So, I jump in. I start callin’ the dog, “C’mon, buddy! Come here!” And wouldn’t ya know it, the little fella comes right to me. The owner’s all grateful, and I’m feelin’ like a hero for a hot minute. But then, just as I’m about to bask in my glory, I trip over a crate of apples. Classic me, right?

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