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I'm one of the finest paid and most popular male escorts on the planet. I live primarily in hotels. And in my personal health club in my London penthouse.
In my line of task cash is not an element; I get very well paid and constantly what I ask for. That's one of the opportunities when you're in a league of your own.
The rate I have to pay is living a hush hush life of secrecy and making sure I'm in no chance related to my clientele. And I'm continually checked and under examination of a physician who works for MI5. This gives me clearance with even the most delicate contacts, like the princesses of Britain and Monaco.
I do everything my customers desire me to do, I understand no limitations considering sex. All my customers are at least 18 years old, and I work strictly without condoms. Cash shots are of no interest to my customers, and the interactions are never ever recorded.
Otherwise I'm into anything. I'm sometimes even used for reproducing, which the outcome I'm having offspring that are likewise kids of the popular. I'm specifically used for this purpose by lesbians. A pussy is a pussy, so to me it's all the same.
I'm not an escort who wines and dines the women, I'm strictly there for the sex. I can go on undisturbed for a long time and just come on commando, simply like the finest male pornography stars.For the sake of discreetness I'm either currently in the hotel suite of my client when she shows up, or I'm accompanied in by her security information. When she finished her lecture at the Ziggo Dome she was ushered to my Prinsengracht loft instead of her hotel suite.
Because she had provided her last lecture of the series she required some diversion to loosen up. With Barak not at hand my discrete services were a hassle-free alternative. Before I sent out the fully grown MILF back to her hotel some two hours later I fucked Michelle deep and tough and left my trademark keepsake at the threshold of her womb. I remember my first task like it was yesterday. At the time I lived on Barbados. I was there on a vacation, enjoying the sun, surf and sand, and life in basic, particularly the girls on the beach in skimpy swimwears. I had actually recently made a little fortune from selling my ICT start-up. I could live my life without further earnings for peaceful some time, so I chose to stay there.
One day a guy approached me at the bar. Match, friendly, peaceful handsome. He said he had actually seen my yearning for the women, the method I observed them on the beach. He asked me if I had seen the ladies' desire for me. I had not. He explained to me they did. He informed me there was something that made the girls want me, physically. They wished to have sex with me. Was it my physique, I asked him. That could be part of it, he said, but not always so. Certainly girls are more brought in to good-looking guys, but that's inadequate for them to want to make love. Actually wishing to have sex, beyond a fleeting musing. Like a burning desire that has to be snuffed out. He was sure I had that tourist attraction.
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