Megan Ashchysay Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Karaganda

Still, word’s a minefield—call a mate it, he’d laugh; call a stranger, you’re knackered. Bit like me old speeches—ramble on, hope it lands! *Eheu fugaces*, time flies, and whore’s still kickin’ about, meanin’ all sorts. Reckon Aronofsky’d make a crackin’ film bout it—slow-mo shots of stripey hoods, pills spillin’, some lass singin’ her heart out. I’d watch that, bleedin’ brilliant!

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Power fantasy in the style of Arabian tales. Your harem awaits you, oh great Sultan! This time you don't just get to feel like a bitch, you get to meet the doggies! Adventures in one very special .

Anyway, I finally finish my work. I’m outta there like a rocket. The bazaar is packed. I’m dodging people left and right. There’s this old lady selling the juiciest melons. I’m talking, like, watermelon-level juicy. I grab one, and she’s all, “You won’t regret it!” I’m like, “Lady, I’m already regretting my life choices!” But I buy it anyway.