Mateo
"Greyscale, I think. Just a little boat, though. Like a doodle of a boat." Mateo has no idea what he's saying, in truth, because only a fraction of his mind is still on cocktails and tattoos, even if he's tapping the menu for the waitress who has stopped by, ordering three Manhattans (one is for Ever, but Mateo gets his cherries). "Mmm, no, I think the objective is for us to watch this," he replies with a slow shake of his head.
The tassels are mesmerising, as are the breasts effortlessly spinning and shaking them around, and the florist's eyes drink in every curve and every stiletto tipped heel, a crooked smile flickering across his face at the acrobatics as much as the provocative nature of the show. "Happy fucking holidays, right?" He chuckles to Ever.
The tassels are mesmerising, as are the breasts effortlessly spinning and shaking them around, and the florist's eyes drink in every curve and every stiletto tipped heel, a crooked smile flickering across his face at the acrobatics as much as the provocative nature of the show. "Happy fucking holidays, right?" He chuckles to Ever.
I'm a scholar and a gentleman
And I don't usually fall when I try to stand
And I don't usually fall when I try to stand
