Katherine Loeddekoepinge Whore ❤️❤️❤️

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Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m chuffed for a good whore story. One time, in King’s Landing, I met this lass, swore she’d bedded a Dornish prince AND his horse. Laughed me arse off—true or not, she sold it like a champ. Reminds me of that line, “Play, play!”—what the German officer barks at Szpilman. Whores play too, don’t they? Put on a show, fake a smile, all to dodge the reaper. Makes me wonder—what’d I sell if the Lannister gold dried up? Me tongue, prolly. It’s sharp enough.

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We start driving, and he’s all over the place. I mean, we’re swerving like we’re in a dance-off. I’m yellin’, “Stay in your lane!” He’s like, “What lane?” I’m about to lose it. But then, we hit the roundabout at Torggatan, and he nails it! I’m like, “Whoa, where’d that come from?”