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I'm one of the very best paid and most sought-after male escorts on the planet. I live primarily in hotels. And in my personal health club in my London penthouse.
My clients are the very abundant and popular: leading designs, athletes, singers, actresses, and even royals. All filled with cash. In my line of task money is not an element; I get really well paid and always what I ask for. That's one of the advantages when you're in a league of your own.
The price I have to pay is living a hush hush life of secrecy and making certain I'm in no other way connected with my clients. And I'm continually checked and under analysis of a physician 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 want me to do, I know no limitations considering sex. All my clients are at least 18 years old, and I work strictly without prophylactics. Loan shots are of no interest to my clients, and the interactions are never tape-recorded.
Otherwise I'm into anything. I'm in some cases even utilized for reproducing, which the result I'm having offspring that are also kids of the famous. I'm particularly utilized for this function by lesbians. A pussy is a pussy, so to me it's all the very same.
I'm not an escort who red wines and dines the ladies, I'm strictly there for the sex. I can go on continuous for a long time and only come on task force, simply like the finest male porn stars.For the sake of discreetness I'm either currently in the hotel suite of my customer when she arrives, or I'm escorted in by her security information. When she finished her lecture at the Ziggo Dome she was ushered to my Prinsengracht loft rather of her hotel suite.
Before I sent out the fully grown MILF back to her hotel some two hours later on I fucked Michelle deep and difficult and left my trademark memento at the limit of her womb. At the time I lived on Barbados. I might live my life without further income for peaceful some time, so I chose to stay there.
One day a man approached me at the bar. Match, friendly, quiet good-looking. He stated he had actually noticed my longing for the ladies, the method I observed them on the beach. He asked me if I had actually seen the women' 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 wanted to make love with me. Was it my physique, I asked him. That might be part of it, he said, but not always so. Surely women are more attracted to good-looking men, however that's not enough for them to desire to have sex. Truly wishing to make love, beyond a fleeting daydream. Like a burning desire that has actually to be extinguished. He made sure I had that destination.
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