Isabella Blauwput Whore ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

About Mons

We sniffs it out, see? The rot, the glitter. Once knew a geezer, swore his sis was “just dancin’”—ha! Dancin’ my arse, she was whorin’! Laughed ‘til I choked, stupid git. Makes me happy, though—people’s daft lies. Ooh, but the smell—perfume and sweat, gag! Like sniffin’ a sewer in heels. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but who cares? Whore’s a ghost, floatin’ through, takin’ coin, leavin’ shame. “Fuck the past, it’s done!”—Spike’s line fits, don’t it?

HI De Blauwput Leuven

See, I'm the boss of a massage parlour 'round here. Ever seen secrets in bare back arches? Nah, mate, only in Blauwput! I stroll along de cobbled streets of Vlamstraat. I seen lovin' souls troopin' through, dyin’ for a touch, glancing at the rainbow murals on walls. Aaaaah, memories!