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I'm one of the best paid and most sought-after male escorts in the world. I live generally in hotels. And in my personal fitness center in my London penthouse.
My customers are the extremely rich and famous: leading models, athletes, vocalists, actresses, and even royals. All packed with money. In my line of responsibility money is not an aspect; I get extremely well paid and constantly what I request for. That's one of the privileges 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 certain I'm in no chance associated with my clients. And I'm continually evaluated and under examination of a physician who works for MI5. This gives me clearance with even the most sensitive contacts, like the princesses of Britain and Monaco.
I do whatever my customers desire me to do, I understand no limits considering sex. All my customers are at least 18 years old, and I work strictly without condoms. Loan shots are of no interest to my clients, and the interactions are never tape-recorded.
I'm often even utilized for breeding, which the result I'm having offspring that are also children of the popular. I'm particularly used for this function by lesbians.
I'm not an escort who wines and dines the girls, I'm strictly there for the sex. I can go on uninterrupted for a long time and just come on commando, just like the finest male porn stars.For the sake of discreetness I'm either already in the hotel suite of my customer when she gets here, or I'm escorted in by her security detail. When she completed her lecture at the Ziggo Dome she was ushered to my Prinsengracht loft rather of her hotel suite.
Considering that she had actually provided her last lecture of the series she required some diversion to unwind. With Barak not at hand my discrete services were a convenient option. Before I sent the fully grown MILF back to her hotel some 2 hours later I fucked Michelle deep and difficult and left my trademark memento at the limit of her womb. I remember my very first assignment like it was the other day. At the time I survived on Barbados. I was there on a vacation, taking pleasure in the sun, browse and sand, and life in basic, specifically the ladies on the beach in skimpy swimsuits. I had recently made a small fortune from offering my ICT start-up. I might live my life without more earnings for peaceful some time, so I decided to stay there.
One day a guy approached me at the bar. Suit, friendly, quiet handsome. He said he had actually noticed my longing for the girls, the way I observed them on the beach. He asked me if I had actually observed the women' desire for me. I hadn't. He described to me they did. He informed me there was something that made the ladies want me, physically. They wished to make love with me. Was it my body, I asked him. That might be part of it, he said, however not necessarily so. Certainly girls are more brought in to handsome guys, however that's not enough for them to wish to make love. Really wishing to make love, beyond a fleeting musing. Like a burning desire that has to be extinguished. He was sure I had that attraction.
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