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About Dallas

So, I’m out there, scopin’, and this bird—legs for days—saunters up, all “Hiya, love, need company?” I’m thinkin’, “Bloody hell, she’s bold!”—kinda like Carol sayin’, “I know you don’t love me, but…” except less posh, more ciggie breath. Made me happy, though—straight-up hustle, no faff. But then—fuckin’ hell—some geezer rocks up, all “Oi, that’s my girl!” and I’m like, “Mate, calm your tits, I ain’t stealin’!” Nearly shat meself—angry pimps? No thanks.

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Honestly, I luv the hidden dive bar on Hickory Street too. True tale, man: the mix of charm and wild nights gets ya pumped! And lemme tell ya, as a pleasure coach, I notice the vibes most folks skip. Perry-Heights (us) whispers passion in every brick.

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