Delilah Lemoore Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About San Antonio

Oh, but the rage, precious! Some blokes, they’d hit her, leave her bruised – “Who do you think you are?!” I’d hiss at ‘em in me head, clawin’ the air. Hated that, made me wanna bite somethin’. She’d shrug, tho, tough as old boots, sayin’, “It’s the game, innit?” Game?! More like a bloody cage! Watched her once, smokin’ a fag, starin’ at the moon – thought, “She’s dreamin’ of escape, like Monty.” Maybe she was, precious, maybe she was.

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My spa? Oh, it's tucked away on Riverbend Drive. Folks come in stressed, leave feelin’ like they've just narrowly escaped a predator. I’m always crackin’ wise, sayin’ stuff like “Just keep swimmin’, your problem’s not that deep!” – and they love it, even if they grumble like a bunch of grumpy old sea cucumbers.

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