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I'm one of the very best paid and most desired male escorts in the world. I live generally in hotels. And in my private gym in my London penthouse.
My customers are the really abundant and famous: leading designs, professional athletes, vocalists, actresses, and even royals. All packed with loan. In my line of task cash is not an element; I get really well paid and always what I request. That's one of the privileges when you're in a league of your own.
The rate I have to pay is living a hush hush life of secrecy and making sure I'm in no way associated with my customers. And I'm continuously tested and under analysis of a medical professional who works for MI5. This gives me clearance with even the most delicate contacts, like the princesses of Britain and Monaco.
I do everything my customers want me to do, I understand no limits thinking about sex. All my customers 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 ever tape-recorded.
I'm sometimes even used for breeding, which the result I'm having offspring that are also kids of the popular. I'm particularly used for this function by lesbians.
I'm not an escort who wines and dines the ladies, I'm strictly there for the sex. I can go on uninterrupted for a long time and just come on task force, just like the finest male pornography stars.For the sake of discreetness I'm either currently 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 rather of her hotel suite.
Given that she had actually provided her last lecture of the series she needed some diversion to loosen up. With Barak not at hand my discrete services were a convenient option. Before I sent the fully grown MILF back to her hotel some two hours later I fucked Michelle deep and tough and left my trademark keepsake at the limit of her womb. I remember my very first task like it was the other day. At the time I survived on Barbados. I was there on a holiday, enjoying the sun, surf and sand, and life in basic, particularly the girls 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 more earnings for peaceful some time, so I chose to stay there.
One day a male approached me at the bar. Fit, friendly, quiet good-looking. He said he had actually observed my yearning for the women, the method I observed them on the beach. He asked me if I had noticed the ladies' desire for me. I had not. He described to me they did. He informed me there was something that made the girls want me, physically. They wished to have sex with me. Was it my physique, I asked him. That could be part of it, he stated, however not necessarily so. Surely women are more attracted to handsome men, however that's not enough for them to wish to have sex. Really wishing to make love, beyond a fleeting daydream. Like a burning desire that has to be extinguished. He made sure I had that attraction.
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