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I'm one of the very best paid and most sought-after male escorts on the planet. I live generally in hotels. And in my personal health club in my London penthouse.
My clients are the very rich and well-known: leading designs, athletes, vocalists, starlets, and even royals. All loaded with money. In my line of duty loan is not an element; I get effectively paid and always what I ask for. That's one of the benefits when you're in a league of your own.
The rate I have to pay is living a hush hush life of secrecy and ensuring I'm in no method connected with my clientele. And I'm continually checked and under analysis of a medical professional who works for MI5. This offers me clearance with even the most sensitive contacts, like the princesses of Britain and Monaco.
I do everything my customers want me to do, I understand no limitations considering sex. All my clients are at least 18 years old, and I work strictly without prophylactics. Money shots are of no interest to my clients, and the interactions are never tape-recorded.
Otherwise I'm into anything. I'm sometimes even utilized for breeding, which the result I'm having offspring that are also kids of the popular. I'm particularly utilized 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 red 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 pornography stars.For the sake of discreetness I'm either already in the hotel suite of my client when she gets here, or I'm escorted in by her security information. When she finished her lecture at the Ziggo Dome she was ushered to my Prinsengracht loft rather of her hotel suite.
Before I sent out the fully grown MILF back to her hotel some two hours later I fucked Michelle deep and hard and left my hallmark memento at the limit of her womb. At the time I lived on Barbados. I might live my life without additional earnings for quiet some time, so I chose to stay there.
One day a guy approached me at the bar. Match, friendly, quiet good-looking. He said he had noticed my longing for the ladies, the method I observed them on the beach. He asked me if I had observed the girls' desire for me. I had not. He discussed to me they did. He told me there was something that made the ladies want me, physically. They wished to make love with me. Was it my physique, I asked him. That could be part of it, he said, however not always so. Surely ladies are more attracted to handsome men, but that's insufficient for them to want to have sex. Really desiring to have sex, beyond a short lived daydream. Like a burning desire that needs to be snuffed out. He made sure I had that destination.
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