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I'm one of the very best paid and most popular male escorts on the planet. I live mainly in hotels. And in my private gym in my London penthouse.
In my line of responsibility money is not a factor; 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 cost 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 continually evaluated and under scrutiny of a medical professional who works for MI5. This provides me clearance with even the most delicate contacts, like the princesses of Britain and Monaco.
I do whatever my clients desire me to do, I know no limits thinking about sex. All my customers 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 sometimes even utilized for breeding, which the result I'm having offspring that are also kids of the famous. I'm specifically used for this purpose by lesbians. A pussy is a pussy, so to me it's all the exact same.
I'm not an escort who white wines and dines the ladies, I'm strictly there for the sex. I can go on continuous for a long time and just come on commando, simply like the finest male pornography stars.For the sake of discreetness I'm either already in the hotel suite of my customer when she shows up, or I'm accompanied in by her security information. When she completed her lecture at the Ziggo Dome she was ushered to my Prinsengracht loft instead of her hotel suite.
Because she had delivered her last lecture of the series she needed some interruption to unwind. With Barak not at hand my discrete services were a hassle-free alternative. Before I sent out the mature MILF back to her hotel some two hours later on I fucked Michelle deep and hard and left my hallmark memento at the limit of her womb. I remember my very first task like it was yesterday. At the time I survived on Barbados. I existed on a vacation, taking pleasure in the sun, browse and sand, and life in basic, especially the ladies on the beach in skimpy swimwears. I had just recently made a small fortune from selling my ICT start-up. I could live my life without additional earnings for peaceful some time, so I chose to remain there.
One day a guy approached me at the bar. Match, friendly, quiet handsome. He said he had noticed my yearning for the women, the way 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 told me there was something that made the women desire me, physically. They wanted to make love with me. Was it my body, I asked him. That might be part of it, he stated, however not always so. Certainly ladies are more brought in to good-looking males, but that's not enough for them to wish to have sex. Really wanting to make love, beyond a fleeting musing. Like a burning desire that needs to be extinguished. He was sure I had that attraction.
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