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I'm one of the best paid and most in-demand male escorts in the world. I live generally in hotels. And in my personal gym in my London penthouse.
My clients are the extremely rich and famous: top designs, athletes, singers, starlets, and even royals. All filled with cash. In my line of duty loan is not a factor; I get effectively paid and constantly what I ask for. That's one of the privileges when you're in a league of your own.
The price I have to pay is living a hush hush life of secrecy and making sure I'm in no way related to my clients. And I'm continuously checked and under scrutiny of a doctor 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 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 condoms. Loan shots are of no interest to my customers, and the interactions are never recorded.
Otherwise I'm into anything. I'm in some cases even used for breeding, 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 same.
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 only come on commando, just like the finest male porn stars.For the sake of discreetness I'm either currently in the hotel suite of my customer when she shows up, or I'm escorted in by her security detail. When she finished her lecture at the Ziggo Dome she was ushered to my Prinsengracht loft rather of her hotel suite.
Because she had actually provided her last lecture of the series she required some interruption to unwind. With Barak not at hand my discrete services were a hassle-free option. Before I sent out the mature MILF back to her hotel some 2 hours later on I fucked Michelle deep and difficult and left my trademark keepsake at the limit of her womb. I remember my first project like it was the other day. At the time I lived on Barbados. I was there on a vacation, delighting in the sun, browse and sand, and life in general, particularly the ladies on the beach in skimpy swimsuits. I had actually recently made a little fortune from selling my ICT start-up. I could live my life without additional earnings for quiet a long time, so I chose to stay there.
One day a male approached me at the bar. Fit, friendly, peaceful handsome. He stated he had observed my yearning for the ladies, the way I observed them on the beach. He asked me if I had observed the women' desire for me. I had not. He described to me they did. He informed me there was something that made the women 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, but not always so. Surely girls are more drawn in to good-looking men, but that's inadequate for them to wish to make love. Really wishing to have sex, beyond a short lived daydream. Like a burning desire that needs to be extinguished. He was sure I had that attraction.
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