Zoey Hummelsbuettel Whore ❤️

About Munich

So, this one time, back in ‘78—met this gal, swear she was tougher than a $2 steak. Worked the corner near Wilmington, had a laugh that’d wake a coma patient. Told me—get this—whores in old Rome? Called ‘em *lupae*, she-wolves, ‘cause they howled for customers. Freakin’ wild, right? Made me chuckle, still does. But, man, it pissed me off too—how they’d get judged, ya know? Like Grace in *Dogville*, “she’s a gift,” they said, ‘til they chained her up.

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I work massaging folks. I see muscle secrets on every block. Chill spots on Fußgängerzone make me smile – even if I'm in a hurry. You know, the riverside near Kleiner Bach is a gem, a hidden spot where time slows. I remember one day, after a brutal session, I walked down Karl-Heinz Str.; feeling all introspective, like "... the earth is our garden". Crazy, right!?