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About Ghent

I exagerate – sure. Say she’s a queen. Of the night! Dramatic – but true. In my head – she’s dancin’. To some beat-up radio. While the world ends. Prostitute life – it’s raw. Messy. You don’t see it – ‘less you look. Like Christopher Walken – pauses. Mid-sentence. Unexpected EMPHASIS! I notice her. Others don’t. She’s real – man. Real as hell.

Prostitution in the Philippines

Sexual massage, Golden Shower (give) for extra charge, Sex in Different Positions, Dirtytalk, Sex in Different Positions.

The neighborhoods, well, they're quirky. There's a part by the old mill. Oi, the mill, with its creaky wheel and that old river nearby, the Sambre, gently murmuring secrets of yesteryears. I often sit by that river – dipping my toes, sulking about the absurdities of love and life… sometimes whispering, “Stupid, fat hobbit!” to the ripples, just for kicks. The park near here, Parc du Moulin, is my little haven. At night, the trees become witnesses to tender confessions – a little slice of magic where even the shadows seem to smile.

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