Anna Fortuna Foothills Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Philadelphia

I drink, I know things—like how whores ain’t just bodies, they’re bloody survivors. “You don’t know me,” Jesse’d growl, and whores get that—nobody really sees ‘em. I’d exaggerate and say they’re the backbone of Westeros, but nah, too far. Still, they’ve got grit. Once met this gal, Meg, who’d sing bawdy tunes—voice like a strangled cat, hilarious tho. “Coward’s way out,” she’d cackle, mockin’ shy punters. Loved her for it.

Arizona Meeting Sluts

Oh, and the parks! Besides Liberty, there's McKinley Park, where the grass is green & the benches hide secrets. I had one heck of a day there. Something about the whispering winds felt cheerful, but then I got mad at a pigeon stealing my bread. So extra, haha! And sometimes, I swear the wind repeats "We come in peace" over and over, like a malfunctioning robot.

Howling at the Moon