Delilah Wormhout Prostitute ❤️❤️

About Lyon

Sometimes I wonder, ya, what’s it like, sellin’ yerself? “I just feel so alone,” Charlotte says, and I bet dat hits dem hard too. Lonely gig, man, but dey keep goin’. Makes me wanna flex and yell, “You’re strong, don’t quit!” Prostitutes got stories, not just sex—dunno why folks miss dat. Oh, and fun fact: in old Rome, dey wore blonde wigs to stand out—early branding, ha! Cracked me up, imaginin’ dem struttin’ like, “Hasta la vista, competition!”

Selected article

A photojournalist describes how she posed as a prostitute to follow the trade in human flesh.

Fast forward a few hours, and we finally wrap up the client mess. I’m feeling a bit better, but then I step outside. The weather’s gone all weird. One minute it’s sunny, the next it’s pouring. Classic Wormhout, right? I’m soaked, and I’m just standing there, looking like a drowned rat.

Charlie Daley