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I'm one of the very best paid and most in-demand male escorts in the world. I live primarily in hotels. And in my personal fitness center in my London penthouse.
My clients are the really abundant and well-known: top designs, professional athletes, singers, starlets, and even royals. All filled with loan. In my line of responsibility money is not a factor; I get effectively paid and constantly what I ask for. That's one of the privileges when you're in a league of your own.
The price I need to pay is living a hush hush life of secrecy and ensuring I'm in no way connected with my customers. And I'm continuously tested and under scrutiny of a doctor who works for MI5. This offers me clearance with even the most sensitive contacts, like the princesses of Britain and Monaco.
I do whatever my clients desire me to do, I know no limits considering sex. All my clients are at least 18 years old, and I work strictly without prophylactics. Cash shots are of no interest to my customers, and the interactions are never taped.
I'm sometimes even utilized for breeding, which the result I'm having offspring that are likewise kids of the well-known. I'm specifically utilized for this purpose by lesbians.
I'm not an escort who wines and dines the ladies, I'm strictly there for the sex. I can go on uninterrupted for a long time and only come on commando, simply like the finest male porn stars.For the sake of discreetness I'm either already in the hotel suite of my customer when she gets here, or I'm escorted in by her security detail. When she completed her lecture at the Ziggo Dome she was ushered to my Prinsengracht loft rather of her hotel suite.
Considering that she had delivered her last lecture of the series she needed some diversion to relax. With Barak not at hand my discrete services were a hassle-free option. Before I sent the fully grown MILF back to her hotel some 2 hours later on I fucked Michelle deep and difficult and left my trademark memento at the limit of her womb. I remember my first task like it was yesterday. At the time I survived on Barbados. I was there on a vacation, enjoying the sun, browse and sand, and life in general, specifically the ladies on the beach in skimpy swimwears. I had recently made a small fortune from offering my ICT start-up. I could live my life without more earnings for quiet a long time, so I chose to remain there.
One day a male approached me at the bar. Match, friendly, quiet good-looking. He stated he had actually discovered my yearning for the women, the method I observed them on the beach. He asked me if I had actually seen the girls' desire for me. I hadn't. He discussed to me they did. He informed me there was something that made the girls desire me, physically. They wanted to make love with me. Was it my body, I asked him. That could be part of it, he stated, but not necessarily so. Certainly women are more brought in to handsome guys, but that's inadequate for them to wish to make love. Truly wishing to make love, beyond a short lived musing. Like a burning desire that has to be snuffed out. He made sure I had that attraction.
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