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I'm one of the best paid and most in-demand male escorts on the planet. I live generally in hotels. And in my private gym in my London penthouse.
My customers are the very abundant and famous: top models, professional athletes, singers, actresses, and even royals. All packed with cash. In my line of duty money is not an element; I get extremely well paid and always what I request. That's one of the privileges when you're in a league of your own.
The rate I need to pay is living a hush hush life of secrecy and making sure I'm in no way related to my clientele. And I'm constantly tested and under analysis of a doctor who works for MI5. This gives me clearance with even the most sensitive contacts, like the princesses of Britain and Monaco.
I do everything my clients want me to do, I know no limits 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 recorded.
I'm in some cases even used for breeding, which the outcome I'm having offspring that are also kids of the well-known. I'm particularly used for this function by lesbians.
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, just like the best male porn stars.For the sake of discreetness I'm either already in the hotel suite of my customer when she arrives, or I'm escorted in by her security detail. When she finished her lecture at the Ziggo Dome she was ushered to my Prinsengracht loft rather of her hotel suite.
Because she had provided her last lecture of the series she required some distraction to unwind. With Barak not at hand my discrete services were a convenient option. Prior to I sent out the mature MILF back to her hotel some 2 hours later I fucked Michelle deep and tough and left my hallmark keepsake at the threshold of her womb. I remember my first task like it was yesterday. At the time I survived on Barbados. I existed on a holiday, taking pleasure in the sun, browse and sand, and life in general, specifically the ladies on the beach in skimpy swimwears. I had recently made a little fortune from offering my ICT start-up. I could live my life without further income for quiet some time, so I decided to remain there.
One day a guy approached me at the bar. Fit, friendly, quiet good-looking. He said he had actually discovered my longing for the ladies, the way I observed them on the beach. He asked me if I had discovered the ladies' desire for me. I had not. He discussed to me they did. He told me there was something that made the women want me, physically. They wished to make love with me. Was it my physique, I asked him. That might be part of it, he said, however not necessarily so. Surely ladies are more brought in to handsome guys, however that's not enough for them to wish to make love. Actually wishing to make love, beyond a fleeting vision. Like a burning desire that has actually to be extinguished. He made sure I had that destination.
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