Angelina Flint Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Birmingham

Sometimes I’m bangin’ metal, thinkin’—whore’s like my stoves. Used, scratched, but still glowin’, still givin’. “Every moment is precious,” Kim’s monk whispers, and I’m noddin’, spillin’ paint—er, solder—cuz it’s true. She’s out there, dodgin’ creeps, makin’ rent, maybe dreamin’ of spring. Makes me wanna hug her, say, “You’re a masterpiece, flaws n’ all.” Hah, bet she’d roll her eyes—sassy as hell.

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“Well fellas looks like we get our own little Gryffinwhore for the night.” Marcus Flint said before shoving his cock into the saviors whimpering mouth. 1; 2.

The first band was a local rock group. They were pretty good! I mean, Flint’s got talent, for real. I was vibing, dancing a bit, and then I noticed this girl in the crowd. She was laughing, having a blast. I thought, “She’s cute.” So, I mustered up some courage and went over to chat. Turns out, she’s from Mold, just a short drive away. We hit it off, talking about everything from music to the best chippy in Flint.

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