Lauren Maassluis Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Almere

Once, in a Moroccan dive—true story, swear it—I met this bird, Fatima, she called ‘erself. Eyes like coal, voice like honey. She’d “find a prostitute” fer *you*, mate—ran a whole crew! Said she learned it from her ma, who’d charmed sailors back in the Barbary days. Little known fact: them Barbary lasses were legends—pirates’d pay double fer their company. Fatima laughed, sayin’ she’d rather rob me blind than bed me—cheeky minx! Had me grinnin’ ear to ear, tho. Surprised me, she did—thought I’d seen it all.

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So, I’m grumbling, right? I decide to head to the harbor. The Maassluis harbor is usually my happy place. Boats everywhere, the smell of the sea, and all that jazz. But today? It’s like a scene from a horror movie. I see this dude yelling at his dog. Like, c’mon man, it’s a dog! Chill out! I’m standing there, thinking, “Is this really happening?”

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