Aria Heusdenhout Find A Prostitute ❤️❤️❤️

About Rotterdam

Monotone narration, “Tonight’s the night.” I’m feelin it, the itch. Not just for the deed—tho yeah, that too—but to *know* her. What’s her deal? She says her name’s Candy, probs fake, but who cares? I’m Dexter, I don’t judge. She’s twirlin her hair, lookin at me like I’m a puzzle. “You’re weird, strings,” she says. Weird! Me! Pot callin kettle black, babe.

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After lunch, I head back to the office, and guess what? The fire alarm goes off. Seriously? I’m like, “Not again!” We all pile outside, standing in the parking lot. It’s cold, and I’m regretting my choice of jacket. I’m shivering, and all I can think is, “This day just keeps getting better.”