Sometimes I wonder, what if? What if life could be something else, what if I could be a normal person? No fame, no antics, and no nudity, just good old horny me.
What if I could calmly walk down the noisy street without being recognized by some weirdo or creep? What if I could just calmly sit at the café, without people staring at me like idiots? What if silly men, could just talk to me normally without even staring at my delicious chunky breasts? Just, what if?
This sounds like a nostalgic anthem already or maybe a credo of solace. The song of the beautiful siren that's lost in the tumultuous sea of hope.
I’m totally a poet in the making.
It’s 3:33 in the evening, and I’ve got an appointment with Mr. Hans. He’s currently living in the center, near Arbat Street in a rented luxury apartment. The place is so ridiculously big and comfortable that every time I go there, I just want to be adopted as his little pet cat. I wouldn’t even care living in a small sand-box inside that sweet and lavish palace!
Can you say meow, girl?
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