Freya Bodegraven Find A Prostitute ❤️

About Rotterdam

Meets her downtown—holy shit, she’s fire! Dressed sharp, smirkin’ like she owns me already. “You’re early,” she says, cool as ice. I’m sweatin’, mutterin’, “I couldn’t sleep anyway”—total Bob Harris move. She laughs—fuck, that pissed me off! But also, damn, it’s hot. We vibe, talk cash—greed’s the glue, man. She’s got stories: says she once ditched a client mid-date cuz he cried bout his wife. Hilarious! I’m crackin’ up, thinkin’, “This is better than therapy!”

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Then, the day takes a turn. I get a call. It’s work. They need me to head to the outskirts of Bodegraven, near the train station. Something’s up. I’m like, “Great, just what I needed.” I rush over, and it’s chaos. Police everywhere, people whispering. Turns out, there was a small robbery at a local shop. I’m trying to keep my cool, but inside, I’m like, “Why today? Why now?”

This Dutch town has traffic lights on the ground because people are staring at their phones