Sarah Howard Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

This one gal, she’s smokin’ a cig, leanin’ on a wall. Eyes sharp, like she’s sizin’ me up. Reminds me of Dennis Haysbert in the movie—quiet, knows too much. “What’s your name, doll?” I grunt. “Candy,” she says, smirkin’. Candy! Hate cutesy names. But she’s got grit, no tears, no “I can’t go on” nonsense. Straight to business—respect that. Told her, “Keep it quick, I got wood to chop.” She laughs, husky, real. Surprised me—thought she’d be all fake giggles.

Feminism still finds it inconceivable that a woman could enjoy turning her body into brisk business

Man, I sometimes get nostalgic. I’m thinkin’: “Everything in this city’s a lesson.” There are tiny cafes on Maple St where I sat and cried ‘cause I realized life is messy and beautiful. It’s like those Zen-like pauses Steve Jobs loved – moments of silence that say so much.

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