Lila Blauwput Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Namur

They’re survivors, whores are. Like that monk rowin’ his boat, quiet-like, they just keep goin’. Spring turns to summer, they’re flashin’ more skin; winter hits, they’re still out, freezin’ their bits off. Respect, really – takes guts. ‘Course, I’d never say that out loud, I’d look a right prat. But you get me, yeah? Whores ain’t just a laugh, they’re a bloody institution! Oi, you got a tenner? Nah, just kiddin’ – or am I? Heh!

House Rules

Y'know what? Sometimes when I’m massaging tired limbs, I remember how Blauwput always surprises me. Like that time I got cut off by a cab driver right outside of Monstre du Parc – had me mad as hell, but then I cackled like a lunatic. Life here, babe, is a carnival of crazy.