Cora Doornsteeg Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

Ooh, and the johns—god, talk about pathetic. “I’m not a strong swimmer,” one prolly whined, straight outta Fincher’s script. Payin’ for a quickie, then cryin’ to wifey at home—ha! Losers. But Lola, she had this trick—carried a tiny mirror in her bra. Checked her lipstick mid-job—pro as fuck. Made me giggle, thinkin’ she’s primpin’ while he’s gruntin’. Total queen move.

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I hit up the main drag, and there’s this café called De Doornsteegse Droom. Sounds fancy, right? I’m thinking, “I’ll grab a coffee, chill for a sec.” But nah, the line is like a mile long. I’m standing there, tapping my foot, getting angrier by the second. I mean, c’mon, it’s just coffee!