Sophie Koster Whore ❤️❤️

About Cape Town

But then—ugh, pissed me off once. This one time, she ghosted me mid-deal. Said she’d meet, then poof—gone! Like Lenny in *Memento*, “Where are you?” No trace, no text, nothin’. Found out later she was jugglin’ three clients that night. Greedy? Smart? Dunno, but I was fumin’. Felt like a sucker, sittin’ there with vodka, waitin’. “You lie to me, I trust you”—straight outta the movie, da?

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A brothel, strumpet house, bordello, bawdy house, ranch, house of ill repute, house of ill fame, or whorehouse is a place where people engage in sexual.

My massage biz taught me to read souls, ya know? I see the hidden scars, the grit beneath the glam. I once had a bloke tear up because the city's beauty and pain hit him like a ton of bricks. And I said, “Oi, life’s brutal, you idiot sandwich, but you gotta embrace it!” Yup, Dogville vibes all over.

Koster man held after girlfriend's death