Fatima Vorst Brothel ❤️❤️❤️

About Namur

What pisses me off? The stench - sweat, cheap perfume, desperation. Been near one once, nearly gagged. But happy bit? Some lasses there, proper characters, takin no shit. Surprised me - thought it’d be all doom n gloom. *whirr* “I feel like an actor,” one killer said. Brothel’s a stage too - everyone playin a part, masks on. Me, I’d rather watch the stars than pay for a quickie, but each to their own, yeah?

Once brought a jackass and a honeycomb to a brothel... worst after sex meal ever

Straight up, Vorst’s got old bricks and neon dreams. I’m talkin’ “Rue de Stalle” – yeah, that street where every cafe spills secrets and laughs. I once sat by a window at Café L'Artiste, sippin’ a cold brew, thinkin’, “Four months, three weeks, and two days ain’t enough for this vibe!” (sound familiar? lol) Felt adrift like in that movie – but in a good, bittersweet kinda way.

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