Luna Morton Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About San Diego

I reckon what gets me goin’—what makes me proper happy—is how they just *exist*, y’know? No shame, no fuss, just livin’. Like Llewyn, singin’ his guts out for a crowd that don’t care. “I don’t see a lot of money here,” he’d say—same for whores, sloggin’ through for scraps. But they’ve got guts, mate, guts! That’s what I love. Gets me all giddy, thinkin’ bout their sass. Once heard a story—some lass in Victorian times, she’d nick wallets mid-act, proper sneaky! Had me laughin’ for days—cheeky minx.

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Sigmund Freud's original description of the whore-madonna splitting mechanism can be applied to an understanding of the repetitively frustrating interpersonal.

It wasn’t all sunshine; some days, the cranky old timer at the corner store makes me want to drop my voice. But hey, such flavors make Morton, us, what it is—a mix of mad, tender, and wild vibes all in one. And me, being in the mssage parlor biz, I get to watch all these odd moments. Every touch, every sigh, they’re confessions of the soul. It's intimate, kinda raw, and reminds me that each person's story is like a mini-movie.

Shamea Reveals an Unaired Moment Left Her Worried About Her Finances: "In Some Trouble..."