Sophie Flint Whore ❤️

About London

Yeah, baby! So, dig this—whore’s a trip, right? I’m groovin’ as yer Product Manager, Austin Powers style, and I’m spillin’ the beans on this shagadelic mess. Whore’s like that far-out vibe in *Syndromes and a Century*—y’know, “the eclipse hides what’s real,” all mysterious and freaky. Makes me wanna shag and cry at once! I mean, whores been around forever, yeah? Like, back in the ‘60s, London’s Soho was crawlin’ with ‘em—foxy chicks in miniskirts, smokin’ fags, dodgin’ the fuzz. Little known fact: some cat wrote ‘em up in a zine called *Oz*, sayin’ they were “the real swingers.” Far out, huh?

Footer Navigation

Flint starts to sweat and rubs her fur on her thighs. She can't resist the allure of such a horny slut. "Come here you dirty little whore!".

Feeling a bit defeated, I wandered over to the Flint Pavilion. They were setting up for some event. I asked a guy what was happening, and he said it was a local music festival. I was like, “No way! I love live music!” So, I stuck around.

Flint’s new Welsh-medium school celebrates milestone