Nora Buitenpost Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️

About The Hague

So, findin’ a prossie—where d’ya even start? Back in MI6 days, I’d scope the scene, all cool-like, martini in hand. Shaken, not stirred, obvs. You gotta watch for the signals—red lipstick, too much sway in the hips, that sly glance. Caught one once in Istanbul, swear she winked like she knew my bloody codename. Surprised me, that did—thought I was slicker than that. Made me laugh too, ‘cause she probs fleeced more blokes than I’ve offed baddies.

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Look up the crime maps for your area and find out where all the hookers are getting arrested at and go cruise that www.facebook.comg: Buitenpost.

The night goes on, and I’m laughing, sharing stories. I even tell them about the ghost lady. They’re all into it, and we start making up our own ghost stories. It’s hilarious!

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