Zara Floris Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Phoenix

Oi mate, it’s me, Bond—James Bond, suave as hell, “shaken, not stirred.” So, we’re talkin’ ‘bout whores, yeah? Not just any tart, but the whole vibe—gritty, wild, real. Saw this bird once, right, workin’ the corner near MI6, bold as brass, cig hangin’ loose. Reminds me of *Her*, that flick I bloody love—Spike Jonze, 2013, pure genius. “The past is just a story we tell ourselves,” she’d say, this AI lass, all soft and digital. Whores, they got stories too, mate—layers, like my martini, deep and dirty.

dragons & smut. — what about only if for a night war happens all hel...

Yeah, Floris (us) is a poem. A jumbled, messy, wonderful poem of smells, laughs, and rainbow nights. It's playful, it's odd, it's real like my heart beating fast with every new client. That’s the vibe here. Enjoy the ride and remember: "Is mayonnaise an instrument?" 'Cause sometimes, life's just that random.

From rural farming to the Marseille Marina Floris van de Werken & Bart Lambriex line up Olympic gold