Another day, another woman on her knees pleasing me. That’s how I live my life. People want to judge me for what I do. I have two words for them: Piss off. I didn’t come all the way from England to be shat upon. No, I live my life to the fullest. That’s always how it’s been. I plan to conquer the world if I can.

Why is it that men are miffed by me? Is it because of my chiseled body? Or because every woman, at every party, looks my way when I’m in a room? Or is it because of my cold, hard cash, my financed Bentley, and my collection of fine Italian suits? Shit, mate. I think it’s a combination of all of those things. I’m the best there is. I’m every woman’s fantasy. And I give them the experience they’ve been waiting for.

All you have to do is call my number and I’ll be there. It’s that easy. I can talk in an American accent if you like. Or, if you prefer, I can speak in my native tongue. I know women love a foreign accent. It makes them cum while standing up.

This woman I’m with, for instance, she’s sucking my cock better than anyone I’ve ever been with before. It’s all because I cheers’d her at the party and told her friends some wild stories about London. That’s all it really takes.

Now, standing above her, she’s worshipping the ground I walk on. My cock is a fucking idol for her. She’s on her knees, mouth open, and her tongue is whispering prayers I’ve never heard before. “Dear lord.” I smile and run my hands through her thick, beautiful hair. She’s about thirty-five, I take it, but she’s pretty good looking nonetheless.

“I just want to please you,” she whispers, among her heavy breathing and sucking. Her hands wrap firmly around my balls and I feel myself about to unwind in her.

They all want to please a guy like me. I’m not a fucking loser. I’m the real deal. I’m everything she’s dreamed of, ever since she was a little girl. “What kind of man do you want?” Well, of course, the answer is Walker Hambell.

“I’m cumming, darling,” I whisper. My cock grows inside her mouth. I look at her pussy and it’s dripping across the red carpet of this fine hotel. I grab the bottle of champagne from the dresser next to me and take a giant swig.

And I cum like I’ve never cum before. She swallows it whole and smiles, kissing the tip of my hard cock. “Thank you,” she whispers, handing me a thousand dollars in cash. “Can you stay the night?”

“I really should be going,” I protest. But for another three grand, I’ll stay. Sure. It’s part of the job, anyway.

“I have a few hundred here for you,” she hesitates, looking in her purse. No doubt, this is her allowance given to her by her wretched husband. Now she’s gone and spent it all in one night.

I smile and act polite. “I’m sorry, doll. But I have another function.” She pouts on the bed, but I’m out of that room within seconds.

I’m not a guy that gets hung up on these women. I like my freedom. I like going home and playing with my toys. My money goes to me and me only and I’ve made a fucking kingdom with it.

Some call me names. I don’t like those terms. These women want an experience, plain and simple. I offer a service and I give it to them. It’s not even about the sex. Women are very different in this category.

No, for them, it’s about feeling loved. I’m damn good at that, I must say. Most of them are married. Most of them are older. And most of them want to feel that initial spark. You know, the thing that set them off on a different life path.

Men get to experience this kind of a thing all of the time. They go out, have a few drinks, and fool around with the nanny when they come home. They get to feel like they’re king of the world, once again. That’s how they felt when they met the mother of their children. I know how it is. That’s why I’m not fucking married. So, why can’t these women have a similar experience?

I’m your next boyfriend. For one night and the right price, I’m the one you’ll fall in love with. I’m the one you’ll tell your friends about, during girl talk, when the husbands are out golfing. I’m the one who will change your life. I’m the one you’ll be dreaming of. And I’ll sure as shit break your heart.

I’m Walker Hambell. Any questions?