Paris. The soft sounds of the city envelop you as you gaze out at the enchanting night view of the Eiffel Tower from the window opposite your bed. The curtains flutter gently, allowing a cool, pleasant breeze to caress your warm, sweaty bodies. You lie comfortably on your stomach, enjoying a Joost’s cigarette while his heavy breathing fills the air, a reminder that he’s still recovering from the excitement of the last hour

“I actually found my first camera in an old house in Friesland,” he says, a spark of enthusiasm lighting up his voice. “How about we record a vlog? You know, like those movies where they show the wife who died a hundred years ago?” He chuckles, rummaging through his bedside drawer as if searching for a hidden treasure.

“Hello everyone, welcome to my vlog, my personal archive!” He addresses the camera with playful zeal even nobody will see this video he wants to record the moment. “I haven’t recorded anything on this camera in about 15 years. We’re in Paris, and here are my toes, and now, the feet of the most beautiful girl in the world.” He angles the camera toward you, capturing the intimate moment, and you giggle, playfully covering yourself with the silk sheet, feeling both bashful and shy.