Emilia Omer Brothel ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Holon

Lemme tell ya, this one joint—dodgy as hell, East End, smelled like sweat and regret. Lass at the door, all smirks, “Cash up, big man.” Pissed me off—thought I’d run the show, but she’s the bloody architect here. Rules tighter than my mask, “No touchin’ unless I say.” Fair, but fuck, the power trip! Reminds me, “The shadows betray you,” coz they own the dark, not me.

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Musee de l'Hotel Sandelin, Saint-Omer. Steen beeldt hier een jonge prostituee uit op de rand van haar bed en die een been optilt. Met haar.

As the night went on, we ended up at this food truck on HaYarden St. Best shawarma I’ve ever had! I’m talkin’ juicy, spicy, and just the right amount of garlic. I was in heaven. But then, I dropped half of it on my shirt. I’m like, “Great, now I’m a walking food stain.”

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