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About Aarhus

She’s there, leanin’ on the pier, skirt hiked up, smokin’ a fag—proper cheeky! “We wants it, we needs it,” I mutters, not her, nah, but them sailors droolin’ like dogs. Makes me mad, it does—stupid blokes tossin’ coin for a quick shag. Ain’t no romance, no “petit je t’aime” like Amélie’d whisper. Just cold, hard cash, and her smirkin’ like she’s won somethin’.