Gianna Rouet Whore ❤️

About Paris

Once caught her slippin’—midnight, alley, lipstick smeared. Thought, “Gotcha, kiddo!” Nope—she winked, vanished. Pissed me off—smart as hell! Heard she bribed a judge with homemade jam. Jam, folks! Who does that? Whore does. Ain’t that a kick?

The sex was never, ever fun: My lessons in prostitution

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I head back to my shop, and guess what? My first customer is this lady, all decked out in fancy shoes. She’s like, “Can you fix these?” I’m like, “Lady, those look like they’ve been through a war!” But I smile, ‘cause that’s what you do. Turns out, she’s from Paris, and she’s in Rouet for the weekend. She starts ramblin’ about how beautiful the beaches are. I’m like, “Yeah, yeah, but have you tried the local wine?”

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