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I'm one of the very best paid and most in-demand male escorts on the planet. I live primarily in hotels. And in my private gym in my London penthouse.
In my line of task loan is not an element; I get really well paid and always what I ask for. That's one of the benefits when you're in a league of your own.
The cost I have to pay is living a hush hush life of secrecy and making certain I'm in no way related to my clientele. And I'm continuously tested and under scrutiny of a physician 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 know no limits thinking about sex. All my clients are at least 18 years old, and I work strictly without condoms. Money shots are of no interest to my clients, and the interactions are never ever taped.
Otherwise I'm into anything. I'm often even utilized for reproducing, which the result I'm having offspring that are likewise 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 very same.
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 only come on commando, just like the best male pornography stars.For the sake of discreetness I'm either currently in the hotel suite of my client when she shows up, 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 out the mature MILF back to her hotel some two hours later on I fucked Michelle deep and difficult and left my trademark memento at the limit of her womb. At the time I lived on Barbados. I might live my life without more income for peaceful some time, so I chose to stay there.
One day a man approached me at the bar. Match, friendly, quiet handsome. He said he had actually noticed my longing for the women, the way I observed them on the beach. He asked me if I had actually seen the women' desire for me. I hadn't. He explained to me they did. He informed me there was something that made the girls desire me, physically. They wanted 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 ladies are more brought in to good-looking men, however that's not enough for them to wish to make love. Truly wishing to make love, beyond a short lived musing. Like a burning desire that needs to be snuffed out. He made certain I had that destination.
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