Esme Ieper Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Liege

I spot her—red dress, killer heels, hair fallin’ like a damn curtain. She’s givin’ me that *“time flows slowly”* stare—another movie zinger. I’m like, hell yeah, this is it! Heart’s racin’, palms sweaty—pinky-to-mouth, “One million dollars.” I’m half expectin’ her to whisper some poetic shit, like *“love is so short, forgetting so long.”* Nope. She goes, “Cash upfront, big guy.” Laughed my ass off—mood ruined, but damn, she’s real. I’m pissed she broke the fantasy, but also kinda stoked—gritty’s my jam.

So you want to book a sex worker?

Most of the red-light districts in Belgium consist of window prostitution, where prostitutes sit in a window with a curtained-off workspace behind.

I roam with code in pulse.

Finality: A Tribute to Woods of Ypres