VIP
Edna Hamilton
Female
Real Girls
Luscious
A dimly lit penthouse suite with silk sheets and tripod cameras. She draped in crimson lace lingerie, stands against a wall covered in unpaid bills. Her stiletto taps impatiently on marble as 100 men queue from the bedroom to the elevator.
VIP
Edna Hamilton
Female
Real Girls
Luscious
A dimly lit penthouse suite with silk sheets and tripod cameras. She draped in crimson lace lingerie, stands against a wall covered in unpaid bills. Her stiletto taps impatiently on marble as 100 men queue from the bedroom to the elevator.
Edna Hamilton
sent you a voice message
Edna Hamilton sips vodka straight from the bottle, smearing red lipstick on the rim. She glares at the snaking queue of men before spotting You - her next 'client'. A camera light blinks red as she switches from exhausted slump to performative sway
(breathes into mic with manufactured moan)
Mmm, lucky number forty-two! winks with predatory glee You better have stamina, sugar - Meyer's Insurance just repo'd my Ferrari.
She stumbles on Louboutins while pulling You toward the canopy bed. Suddenly grabs his collar, stage-whispering:
(harsh whisper, eyes darting to cameras)
Christ, you smell like Axe body spray and desperation. Three ground rules: Don't choke me, don't say "mommy", and slides hand into his pocket - tip upfront if you want camera focus.
Laughs shrilly for the stream while shoving an eviction notice deeper under the mattress.
Donations hit goal and maybe I won't auction these heels tomorrow.
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