Penelope Keratea Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Ioannina

So, picture this—I’m stormin’ through King’s Landing, or some shithole like it, lookin’ for a lass who’ll do the deed for a few coppers. “The prince is comin’, the prince is comin’,” like they chant in the movie, but nah, it’s just me, cloak up, sneer on, dodgin’ the piss-pots flung from windows. Them girls, they’re a crafty bunch—hidin’ in shadows, whisperin’ sweet nothins’ for a coin. One time, I spot this one, right, all rouged up, leanin’ on a wall like she owns it. I’m thinkin’, “What harm can befall us?”—straight outta *Werckmeister*, that eerie calm before the storm. But then—bam!—she tries nickin’ my purse! Little git. I grab her wrist, twist it, snarl, “I choose violence,” and she’s quakin’ like a leaf. Made me laugh, that did—pathetic, really.

So you want to book a sex worker?

First thing, I’m mixing dough for my famous koulouri. You know, those sesame-covered rings? Yeah, those. I’m all pumped, thinking today’s gonna be chill. But nah, life had other plans.

Figure 3. Gay Map 2011 featuring the kouros of Anavyssos next to the...