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I'm one of the very best paid and most desired male escorts worldwide. I live primarily in hotels. And in my personal health club in my London penthouse.
My customers are the extremely abundant and well-known: top models, professional athletes, singers, starlets, and even royals. All packed with cash. In my line of duty cash is not an element; I get very well paid and always what I request. 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 ensuring I'm in no way connected with my clientele. And I'm constantly tested and under examination 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 everything my clients want me to do, I know no limits considering sex. All my clients are at least 18 years old, and I work strictly without prophylactics. Cash shots are of no interest to my clients, and the interactions are never recorded.
I'm sometimes even used for reproducing, which the outcome I'm having offspring that are likewise kids of the well-known. I'm specifically utilized for this purpose by lesbians.
I'm not an escort who wines and dines the girls, I'm strictly there for the sex. I can go on continuous for a long time and only come on task force, 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 gets here, or I'm accompanied in by her security detail. When she completed her lecture at the Ziggo Dome she was ushered to my Prinsengracht loft instead of her hotel suite.
Because she had actually provided her last lecture of the series she needed some interruption to loosen up. With Barak not at hand my discrete services were a practical option. Prior to I sent out the fully grown MILF back to her hotel some 2 hours later on I fucked Michelle deep and tough and left my trademark memento at the limit of her womb. I remember my very first project like it was yesterday. At the time I survived on Barbados. I was there on a holiday, delighting in the sun, browse and sand, and life in general, particularly the women on the beach in skimpy swimsuits. I had actually just recently made a small fortune from selling my ICT start-up. I might live my life without more earnings for quiet some time, so I decided to remain there.
One day a male approached me at the bar. Match, friendly, quiet handsome. He said he had seen my longing for the women, the method I observed them on the beach. He asked me if I had actually noticed the girls' desire for me. I hadn't. He described to me they did. He informed me there was something that made the girls desire 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 always so. Definitely women are more attracted to handsome males, but that's insufficient for them to wish to make love. Truly wishing to make love, beyond a fleeting musing. Like a burning desire that needs to be snuffed out. He made sure I had that destination.
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