Sienna Quarto Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Milan

Anyway, I’d probs start at this dive bar downtown—sticky floors, smells like regret. Perfect spot to find a prostitute. I’d be chill, sip a beer, scope the scene. Maybe some chick in fishnets winks at me, and I’m like, “Well, hello, darlin’!” Kinda thrilled, kinda freaked—heart’s racin’, palms sweaty. What if she’s a cop? Shit, that’d piss me off—bust my buzz real quick. Or worse, what if she’s got a pimp watchin’ me like I’m dessert? *“A lobby boy can’t be seen to falter!”*—I’d tell myself, keepin’ cool.

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I finally grab the iron and head back. But now, the café is packed. I mean, it’s Quarto, so of course, everyone’s out for their morning fix. I squeeze in, and the barista, this cool chick named Lucia, gives me a nod. She’s got this killer smile. Makes the chaos worth it, ya know?

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