Layla Demarest Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Chicago

What gets me riled up? Blokes judgin’ her, callin’ her a tart – makes my blood boil! She’s out there, hustlin’, survivin’, and they’re just tossers with no guts. I’m like, “Do I make you randy, baby?” to meself, laughin’ – ‘cos she’s got more mojo than them lot combined! Once heard this wild tale – some prozzie in Paris hid a bleedin’ diamond in her knickers durin’ the war. Nazis never found it! Crafty minx, eh? True story, swear down.

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Demarest said: The whole beat them up to get your money back was one of the things that antis used to harp on as proof that the game shouldn.

Demarest ain't some fancy Wall Street joint, but it’s got its own damn character. Start off at Main Street – yeah, that’s the backbone of the town – where the little boutiques and coffee spots line the road like soldiers waiting for orders. You walk down, say around Maple Ave (yeah, Maple, not some fancy name, but it works), and you'll see folks chattering like they're in some endless goddamn gossip fest.

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