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I'm one of the finest paid and most in-demand male escorts in the world. I live primarily in hotels. And in my private health club in my London penthouse.
My customers are the very rich and famous: top models, athletes, singers, starlets, and even royals. All filled with money. In my line of duty cash is not a factor; I get effectively 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 need to pay is living a hush hush life of secrecy and making certain I'm in no other way connected with my customers. And I'm constantly checked and under analysis of a medical professional 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. Considering that they are the customer they can call the shots. With 2 exceptions. All my clients are at least 18 years of ages, and I work strictly without condoms. There's no exception to this guideline. I constantly firmly insist on coming within. That is also non negotiable. But money shots are of no interest to my customers, and the interactions are never taped.
Otherwise I'm into anything. I'm in some cases even used for reproducing, which the outcome I'm having offspring that are likewise kids of the popular. I'm specifically used for this function 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 girls, I'm strictly there for the sex. I can go on undisturbed for a long time and only come on task force, simply like the best male porn stars.For the sake of discreetness I'm either already in the hotel suite of my client when she gets here, 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.
Before I sent the mature MILF back to her hotel some 2 hours later on I fucked Michelle deep and difficult and left my trademark memento at the threshold of her womb. At the time I lived on Barbados. I could live my life without more earnings for quiet some time, so I chose to stay there.
One day a male approached me at the bar. Match, friendly, peaceful good-looking. He said he had discovered my yearning for the ladies, the method I observed them on the beach. He asked me if I had noticed the ladies' desire for me. I had not. He explained to me they did. He informed me there was something that made the women desire 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 necessarily so. Certainly girls are more drawn in to handsome males, but that's inadequate for them to wish to make love. Actually wanting to make love, beyond a fleeting daydream. Like a burning desire that has to be snuffed out. He made certain I had that destination.
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