Bella Slikkerveer Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Amsterdam

Oi, mate, lemme tell ya bout this “whore” business—hah, what a mess! I’m Loki, y’know, smug mischief, “I am burdened with glorious purpose,” and all that jazz. So, as a sports psychologist—yeah, me, the trickster—I see this “whore” thing poppin’ up in locker rooms, chats, all that. Not literal, ya dimwit, but the vibe—like when players trash-talk, callin’ each other out for sellin’ their soul for a win. “You’re a whore for that trophy!” they’d yell, and I’d smirk, thinkin’, *Oh, mortals, so predictable.*

Call to book

Prostitute, Role Play and Fantasy, Intimate massage, Cunnilingus, Intimate massage.

After that, I needed a breather. So, I hit up the park on de Laan van de Vrede. It’s usually my go-to spot for chillin’. But today? It was like a circus. Kids screaming, dogs barking, and some guy playing the accordion. I’m just sitting there, trying to gather my thoughts, and this little kid runs up to me. He’s like, “Mister, why are you sad?” I’m not sad, kid! I’m just covered in fries! But I smiled and said, “Life’s a rollercoaster, buddy.”

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