Lydia Chuckey Whore ❤️

About Houston

Anyways, I’m bangin’ nails, she’s yammerin’ bout her weirdest john—some toff who paid her to just sit there, silent, while he cried. “Like I’m his bloody shrink!” she cackles. Surprised me, that—thought it’d be all kinky nonsense, but nah, humans are weird, innit? Straight out of *A.I.*, “The flesh fairs, the human need!”—cravin’ somethin’ real, even from a prossie.

Deadly Dolls and Terrifying Toys

Just a buncha imagines from www.facebook.com try make em like a couple thousand words. if you wanna request then comment. I'm making it any gender.

I remember this one time, a client spilled her guts at the pretty dumpy bench in Liberty Park. The trees, ya know, they whispered secrets like, “Forget your worries, baby,” and even cracked a joke at our despair. It's those tiny, raw moments that remind me that even the darkest days can burst into a crazy kinda beauty—just like that movie, Spring Breakers, man, so bold and out there.

Chuckey-Doak athlete killed in car crash