Hormone Therapy Ch. 15

From that day on, Angela called me regularly to give 'massages' to her supermodel and movie actress clientele. Demand for my services grew and grew. Sometimes she would schedule two sessions a night and another in the morning. I was being paid a ridiculous amount of money by her - so much it was becoming a serious issue. I had rented a bank safe deposit box to hold it, but sooner or later I would have to figure out how to deal with taxes and the like.

It helped that I had finished my Ph.D. within the first month of our arrangement, which meant one less thing to worry about. Focusing on your Ph.D. was tough when you had one mind-blowing sexual encounter after the other. Each 'client' was more beautiful than the ones before. I suppose my brain was addicted to the 'conquest of novelty'. And there was quite a variety of 'new': lots of well-known Hollywood actresses, the majority of the European actresses, popular fashion models, plus the up-and-coming yet little-known younger chicks.

Angela explained to me that her agency had started to use my service both as an incentive for its famous clientele and as a perk for its new talent. A few of these strikingly beautiful newcomers had only just passed their 18th birthday and were out on their own for the first time. I broke more than a few virgins' hymens, turning their first experience into one to cherish for the rest of their lives. Fucking with virgins was something that never gets old, especially not if those virgins were among the European high society of models, influencers, and actresses.

Angela reported that my female clients praised the experience to the skies and were begging for repeat appointments. I had begun sharing 30% of the proceeds with her in recognition of her efficient administrative work. She had happily agreed because organization was her talent, and she could easily fit the work into her day. Normally, she was in charge of hosting various models her employer hired for advertising and photo shoots.

Our relationship became even closer after I had persuaded her to receive a 'demonstration' of my massage service. She was well aware of what was in the box, given the number of times she had discovered me asleep in the morning, hugging my sleeping nude client from behind, my cock popping out of the sleeping beauty with a loud plop as she woke me up.

Angela was neither a model nor a famous actress, dressed in conservative business attire and projected this no-nonsense aura. Over time, however, I had realized Angela had a substantial rack hiding under her blouse, and her thin waist and shapely bubble butt attested to a disciplined exercise regimen. She was short compared to the tall models, her head easily passing below my chin, yet she made up for this with an extraordinary amount of energy and a next-door neighbor-like charm. I looked forward to banging this attractive young woman as a welcome change from my usual supernatural model clients.

When she emerged naked from the bathroom, she covered her unexpectedly large D-cup breasts with her hands - apparently shy about their enormous size. I whistled and complimented her until she became more relaxed - even making a shy spin to show off her figure from all sides. I couldn't help but be impressed by her athletic butt, with a deep cleft between her ass checks that rivaled the gap between her two cantaloupes.

I motioned her to the massage table and began a regular but highly sensual massage until she completely relaxed. Only then would I apply my spiked oil, bringing her arousal to unprecedented levels. She received a dozen orgasms before I finally penetrated her. We continued fucking in various positions for over an hour until her orgasms morphed together into a constant blur. By the time I came deep inside of her, she was so exhausted it took a good part of an hour for her to reCuperfieldate.

From that day on, she understood why the rich actresses accepted my outrageous fees and begged for more appointments. We had established a policy of giving priority to new clients, so repeat bookings were few and far between. Kaia was one of them, tough, booking me every other month. Angela made sure that only attractive young ladies were able to book me - the only exception being Anna Scott, but that would be another story.

My arrangement with Angela also entailed 'renting' an annex (or ADU) to her penthouse apartment (with a separate, discreet entrance) so that I would have a private storage space for my growing trophy collection. It also housed my video gear, computer with all the footage, my collection of sex toys, and anything else not meant for public scrutiny. The 'rent' was paid in kind in the form of bi-monthly fucking sessions.

Of course, all the booking rules didn't apply to Francesca, who came to see me several times a month. We developed an intimate connection where the phenomenal sex was just the icing on the cake. While we both respected each other's primary partners, there was a deep emotional bond between us. You might call it love, I suppose, but it was a unique type of love - more like that with your siblings - unconditional, without jealousy, with no strings attached - simply a wonderful time whenever we were together, no obligations.

We shared many things with each other that we were not able to discuss with our partners. She was the only person I talked about my 'work' - if you like to call it that. She always enjoyed hearing my stories and laughed along with me about silly details such as the sound this or that actress made during her climax. No jealousy from her at all, quite the contrary. She appeared to be very proud of me, her virile lover, being able to gratify many other women - perhaps even with a lingering interest in swinging underneath it all?

Francesca was the only person aware of the existence of my videos. She insisted on seeing them, so we ended up watching a lot together. In particular, she enjoyed the one where I fucked her friend Kaia, fingering herself to a powerful orgasm as she watched - unaided by tx34, I must add. It really turned her on to see me screw other girls - because her brain sensed the pleasure I was getting, perhaps also the girl's joy - plus the intimacy it brought to us sharing such deep secrets. At the time, I did not realize her lingering bi-curiosity.

Of course, we were being increasingly careful with our lovemaking, given how quickly her belly was swelling with our twins. She suspected who had knocked her up thus advised that I use spermicide gel to prevent too many unexplainable pregnancies among my clients. While this was said half-jokingly, I would follow this suggestion - well, at least some of the time, depending on my client's age and relationship status.

Angela always provided me with a set card before each engagement with key facts, including their most recently known partners, marital status, and the like. In addition, Angela followed up on their lives and informed me of new pregnancies and other developments, eventually taking over my database (without access to the encrypted videos).

I realized that I would have to hire an extra staff member soon to keep track of all my progeny, which by now ran into the hundreds. If I were to continue working 3-4 days a week, with a couple clients each, that would amount to close to five hundred possible pregnancies a year. And even if I used the spermicide gel with two-thirds, that would mean more than one hundred potential pregnancies, many of them with twins.

This number did not even include all the other women I seduced. Realistically, I would father more than three hundred children a year. Over the next thirty years, which was when male libido supposedly peaked, that numbers added to ten thousand babies. More than enough work for several assistants to keep track of them, I reflected. Naive as I was then, I had not even considered the exponential effect once my sons reached fertile age.

My official girlfriend, Susan, had recently delivered our first set of twins, so she was okay with our sex life being cut back, due to the many nights I was out of town.

Francesca came up with and refined the cover story for Susan, my family and friends. The cover story had to account for my frequent absences, the fancy limousines picking me up, the posh hotels I stayed in, my long hours of not answering the phone, and my decent earnings. She used her husband's connections to set me up as a consultant for a biotech hedge fund. Though it was just a one-time job, it offered a plausible cover. I gathered as much stationery, pens, backpacks etc. with corporate logos as I could while there. These were things I would carry in my jacket whenever I returned from London.

Angela found a way to launder the huge stash of cash in my bank safe deposit box by using a network of Channel Island companies.

I had become a high-end male escort, I realized. Or, if you like the term, a male prostitute. Considering the overwhelming demand, notwithstanding the outrageous fee we were charging, there appeared to be insufficient supply to satisfy the demand. Obviously, high-class ladies were both willing and capable of soliciting this service, yet normally too restrained to act on it. Possibly the most important aspect of tx34 was its power to reduce inhibitions. Well, not just reduce, but annihilate!

The heightened level of arousal and responsiveness, the enhanced lust and libido, only made the experience all the more enjoyable. However, it made recruiting customers a lot smoother, as most customers would confidentially whisper about the 'most amazing sex experience of their lives' to their closest female friends. The word spread through high society, albeit discreetly. It probably helped that clients who introduced new customers were rewarded with higher priority re-bookings, a strategy cleverly devised by Angela.

I felt good about my work. I was bringing pleasure to countless beautiful ladies, while indulging in the most satisfying sex with the world's most desirable and enticing babes. In the process, I earned an outrageous amount of money. Francesca brought emotional comfort, and Angela took care of all the organizational issues - my girlfriend provided a home and two cute babies. We had made the first payment on a beautiful villa in the countryside, just close enough to our university town to keep in touch with our friends. It was even close enough that our children could (someday) attend the top private schools the university town offered.

Our wedding was being planned within a few months of Susan's recovery from delivery. Angela's connections and organizational skills made wedding planning a piece of cake. Francesca became involved as well, determined to make this a special day for me. Susan tolerated the help of both women without the slightest misgivings, accepting them as acquaintances from my work in London.

There wasn't anything missing in my life, I reflected. Sure, the secrecy was something to get used to, but the fact that Susan was completely indifferent to my work, had her own circle of friends (mostly other mothers), and given how close I was with Francesca, who knew exactly what I was feeling, everything was manageable.

It helped that I no longer seduced women in my local town, not even tourists, to prevent accidental exposure of my philandering. Now that I was about to get married and was the father of twins, I needed to be responsible, right? My work was simply work, right? Nothing morally objectionable about it, simply not something that needed to be talked about!

Francisca was less easy to justify. But wasn't she more like a sister to me? Well, if you gloss over the incredible sex we had. All right, I suppose my affair with Francesca was something that society would consider objectionable, yet I didn't have any regrets about it. I genuinely felt as if I had just had lunch with my sister when I returned home from a sex filled night with Francesca and kissed my future wife, Susan.

My guilt was further dampened by the implicit permission Susan had given me early on in our relationship, when she realized that my sex drive was much higher than hers: to stray if nothing ever came back to her. The fact that she never inquired about my nights in London, never asked who I spend time with there, made it obvious that she chose to look the other way.

I must have some talent for a double life, I reckon. Alternatively, monogamy is something that society imposes on men, rather than something that comes from deep within us. The high demand for my 'massage service' indicated that women were no better when they had the financial means and a little encouragement to overcome their inhibitions with tx34.

The moral implications of knocking up scores of married women was another matter. I did not feel much compassion for the cuckolded husbands. It was probably very evil of me to commit this act and to not even feel bad about it. However, the joy of spreading my genes gave me such an extra thrill that it drowned out any remorse. I am not sure if I was a particularly nasty person or if most men would behave this way given the opportunity.

Fact is, I felt a sinister pride and satisfaction, both in spreading my genes and in humiliating those cuckolds.

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Sorry for the limited amount of sex in this chapter. Trust me, there will be plenty more in the next chapters. This chapter was needed for background info. So, save your spunk until you get hold of a vial of tx34 ;)

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Your feedback is greatly appreciated. I might provide a free sample of tx34 for those with the best suggestions about what you would do with it.

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