Delilah Dauwendaele Brothel ❤️❤️

About Nijmegen

So, brothel—let’s dive in, kiddo! Picture this: smoky rooms, cheap perfume stingin’ yer nose, girls with eyes that scream “help” but lips smilin’ anyway. Makes me wanna puke sometimes, seein’ the fakes. But then—bam!—it hits me, the hustle’s real! These joints were goldmines back in the day. Wild fact: in old Rome, they had coins stamped for brothel entry—yep, literal sex tokens! No cash, just clink-clink, yer in! How’s that for a loyalty card, huh?

Amateur Hoeren?

After that, I decide to stroll down the Dauwendaele Canal. It’s beautiful, but the wind is crazy. My hair’s all over the place. I’m trying to look cool, but I probably look like a tornado victim. I see some ducks, and I’m like, “Hey, at least they’re chill.”

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