A Night with a Stallion….

Okay, I’m sorry. That title was a total lie and I used it because it was just TOO EASY. This post is actually a recap of a date I had with a local SD who owned lots and lots of horses. Lots.

I stumbled upon his profile in a radius search and after seeing the few admittedly bad quality photos, I sent him one of those super annoying adorable winks to get the ball rolling. His profile listed him as mid forties but said he was an avid tennis player and was very young at heart. Next thing I know we are messaging back and forth with him basically shoving his phone number into my eye sockets. Finally, I fell for it and shot of a quick text. Before I knew it he was begging for a phone call on Easter and since I had a long drive to my Easter party, why not?

Let me start by saying I got a very bad feeling as soon as my phone started ringing. I chalked it up to nerves and answered as sweetly and innocently as I could. The phone call was brief and consisted mostly of him telling me how he respects where I am at in life and thinks we will be a good fit, saying his previous girlfriends had bailed on him unexpectedly and he was looking for a new one to spoil. I felt awkward since I had barely said a word and yet he had assumed all of these miraculous things about my lifestyle? Hey buddy, I am on a sugar site just like you, lets reel it in a little bit here. He was eager to meet and we agreed on a time the following day after I got off of work. This is when I want to punch myself for breaking my CARDINAL RULE. Well, one of them.

DO NOT BRING SD’S TO YOUR TINY ASS TOWN NADIA, YOU IDIOT.

But alas, we agreed on a local brewery that was actually right next to my apartment. I pretended traffic was a mess, sending texts “from the road” when I was actually fastening my wedges. I arrived 5 minutes late to drive the lie home. I am THAT nervous about being caught locally, you really have no idea. Anyway, I arrived and to my surprise he has a table for us…at the bar. Not a normal table, no no no. A high top table. Strike 1, mother fucker.

As I get closer to the table I notice it is littered with….glasses? Beer glasses? This guy had ordered the sampler from the bar — NINETEEN beers. Strike 2. Fun fact: I don’t drink beer, which I expressed the day before. But hey, when in Rome…

I tried every single beer, didn’t like any of them, and he was still increasingly frustrating with the slight buzz I had going. We eventually decided on an appetizer which was an event in itself because he 1) Would not sit still, kept going from standing to sitting position and 2) he could not read the menus tiny writing, making me read every description to him. Our waitress was clearly avoiding us out of awkwardness after he informed her it was our “first date”, our age difference being glaringly obvious. So what does this man do? Wait patiently until she comes back like a normal person, right? Wrong! He proceeds to go up to the waitress stand which you know if you’ve ever worked a restaurant is a strictly no fly zone.

She was mortified.
I was mortified.
He was ignorant.

We settled on a spinach flat bread and he picked the 2 middle pieces for me, the 2 edges for him. I love edge pieces! So much so I contemplated very seriously the path my life would take if I invested in a bakers edge brownie pan. I was fuming, but enjoying my mixed drink. Before I could tell the waitress I would like another, he had already ordered it for me without my consent. Hey now. Yeah, I wanted another, but YOU didn’t know I wanted another. Ugh.

Money cannot buy class, which became increasingly evident when our spinach salads arrived as our entree. He copied my exact order by the way, what a cool guy. As he went on for 20 minutes discussing what he would do if he were president, I felt more and more like I was dining with someones father and less and less like I was on a date. This lead to a wave of guilt, what would happen if my Father who also lives next door to this very same brewery, decided to walk through the door?! How would I explain that to him?! Ohhhhh he would murder me. He would laugh his ass off but he would murder me. Hell, as I watched him knock more spinach off of his plate than what made it in to his mouth, Iwanted to murder me. Before I could politely leave, he says, for the entire bar to hear, that he can give me $1300 right now if I agree to enter an arrangement with him. I looked at him in complete shock and said “I…don’t know how to respond to that. Give me a few minutes.” and before the thought could even sink in to my brunette capped skull, he followed up with the worst line I have ever heard and I surely hope to never hear again :

“Well, we can go back to your house or get a hotel room, whatever you’re more comfortable with.”

NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE. NOPE-ITTY NOPE NOPE NOPE.

I waved the waitress over for the check, and got up to leave with him hot on my heels. He planted a kiss on me before saying he had a long drive and had to pee so this is where he would see me off. I threw up a little in my mouth.

You know that tiny stepped run you do when in heels and you’re trying to rush somewhere? Yeah. Imagine that. Now imagine that after doing a ton of speed. That was me.

I’m sure I was out of the parking lot before he had even unzipped his fly. Good thing too, his member was in dangerous territory with me around.

Advertisements

Why Sugar, Why Not Stevia? Or Splenda?

My lifestyle is not a secret from those closest to me. These select few find my stories interesting, exciting, and appreciate my bravery. However, it is met with much apprehension at the same time.

“Why? Why do you want to do this?”

The answer should be easy. I want money. I like the attention. I want to travel. I find older men attractive. ANY of those answers would do but to be honest, it is not anywhere near the real answer. I have a good job that I truly adore with great benefits and stable income. I get enough attention in my daily life with my guy friends mocking my “facebook fanclub”. I travel well enough on my own, at least once a year. Having internet friends gives you lots of opportunities to travel all over, making me pretty well traveled for my age. Truthfully, I have never been with a significantly older man besides the 28 year old I lost my virginity to at the age of 18. Love you, buddy! So why am I doing it?

Easy. To learn. One thing I have realized over the last 6 months is that who you are is not static. People are ever changing, based on not only their surroundings but their experiences. Having escaped my first abusive relationship with a lot more held together than my ex’s previous victims, I feel I have the ability to grow exponentially. I have seen the worst, or so I think. Maybe I am secretly seeking out an even darker side to men so I feel less victimized by that sad excuse for a human being that I laid next to night after night for such a short but seemingly long time. Or on the flip side, maybe I am seeking out that not ALL men are bad and that putting yourself out of your comfort zone could grant you endless happiness. Who knows, really?

One thing I do know is that I am well aware of who I am, who I want to be, and where I am going in life. This is a side gig that I am trying out and if it works, maybe I’ll keep trying it out. I will continue to date outside of Sugar and stop everything when I find the right person to stop for. Does this set horrible standards if I get used to a certain comfortable way of life? Probably. But I am trying to play it smart. Every penny of my sugaring is going in to my savings account to pay off my future schooling, my debt, and even my rent. I can handle all of these without Sugar but it is a hell of a lot harder and lets be honest….who doesn’t want an easy way out after they feel they have been dragged through hell for most of their life?

 

No artificial sweeteners for this Baby.

Quickies can be fun too!

Two Sugar Daddies.

Two very different options.

One seeking a short term arrangement while in town with a high allowance, the other a traveling businessman seeking a partner in crime to fly wherever her heart desires.

Oh, the possibilities.

Did I mention I recieved a message from a very wealthy young man offering any amount of money I ask for as long as he gets to see me do push ups and sit ups in my panties? Oh, Sugar Life. How you never have a dull moment.

Random Sugar is the Best Sugar.

After bailing on a scheduled date with an MIT grad which is a story for a whole different time, I opted to spend my Good Friday in the house doing what I do best. Playing video games. So sexy, how do I not have them lining up?!?!?! Hahaha. Oh boy. I keep this fun fact a pretty big secret.

An important part of sugaring I have noticed, is to keep all options open. Being from a small town with minimal SDs in sight, it is a constant battle to keep on top of new ones that pop up as well as all the ones sending you massive amounts of winks and messages. But on a Friday night in? Sugar can wait. Or so I thought.

As I finished up the billionth round of Defense of the Ancients 2, I tabbed out of the game screen to check my messages. There, nestled between winks from men double my age, was a message from a new account with a simple title “Drinks or dinner tonight?”. Ooooooh. Aaaaaah. The inside read of an attractive young married businessman who had missed his morning flight and was stuck in town for one more night.

He was looking for a distraction.Me? Not so much. Maybe. Ok, I’ll bite.

I fired off a reply asking location and thought nothing of it as I had responded about an hour later than when it was sent. Cue me starting another round of DoTA2 which ended fairly quickly almost as if it was fate! I tabbed back out and to my surprise received another message with a phone number and an address of the hotel. I weighed the options of sitting in being a lazy schmuck or possibly getting some sugar on Gods weekend.

Sugar won

I shot off a text explaining I was by the area anyway with some friends so I would stop by for a quick drink. I stressed I was coming from a casual girls night at a friends so my attire was just that, skinny jeans and a nice cute sweater. He said that was fine as it was exactly what he was wearing. He told me to be careful as there was a rather large Indian wedding taking place in the hotel but “Fear not! I am by the window on the second floor of the restaurant working on my laptop. Blue sweater with normal jeans.” Thank God I pulled that story out of my ass, I was in no mood to get dressed up. The virtual slaughter of my enemies that had taken place all day was fresh in my mind, making me feel more driven and competitive than normal. The smell of their virtual blood hung heavy in the air—hahahahahhahahaha ok let me stop. Seriously though, I was feeling pretty empowered.

After a quick drive there, I was greeted by an absolutely drop dead gorgerous man working tirelessly on his computer at a table far too large for just him. The blue sweater brought out his grey eyes and I will admit, I stood back to just admire him for a moment. Once I realized how awkward that would be if he caught me, I walked up to the table with a new found confidence and before I had even ordered my drink from the admittedly sluggish waitress, he was expressing how excited he was that I responded to his messages. The conversation was great, covering everything from my recent stint on a dodgeball league to his favorite TV Shows including Game of Thrones and Vikings. Before I knew it, two hours had passed and our second or third round of drinks was complete. The moment of truth was coming, I could feel it.

“Want to go up to my room and watch a movie?” he asked with the most innocent freakin smile in existence. I felt at ease and agreed but on my terms. I wanted a room in my name and a pinky swear not to murder or rape me. Both were delivered without question and up we went to the 9th floor to watch the Wolf of Wall Street as we chowed down on cheese cake and apple pie.

We chatted, cuddled, kissed a little bit, and generally had a fun time together. THIS is what these things are all about! Then the transactional came and we agreed on payment terms with emphasis on if I needed anything more to just email him and we will work it out in between his once a month business trips. He then gave me all of the info I needed to know…

“I love how attentive you are…you’re already beautiful but it makes you that much more attractive to me. I just want to lay here with you all weekend.”

BAM. Attention. The silver bullet. Exactly what I need to know to get these tides going even further in my favor. We eventually fell asleep cuddled up next to each other, exchanging light kisses and touches as we slept for the few hours we were allowed before the dreaded 4am wake up call. We woke up discussing how badly we both wanted mimosas and how the next visit surely had to include brunch. After a quick shower, a stop at the ATM, and a kiss on the forehead, he was gone.

I had no phone number. I had no address. All we had was exchanged email addresses and shared agreement that this was an arrangement we would like to pursue.

He told me to order whatever room service I would like and to sleep in, the room was covered for however long I needed it. I pretended that I was able to go back to sleep but lets be honest..I was up and counting that money, sipping my freshly brewed Starbucks, and munching on fresh fruit with yogurt before I’m sure he was even through the first round of airport security.

Ain’t no shame in this game, that’s for sure.

The First Taste of Sugar Part III

The part of the date where the Arrangement discussion came in to play is where it got a little weird. For three reasons, the first mainly being that I wished he would go POOF! in a cloud of smoke for 3 minutes so I could scarf down the homemade gellato we were sharing, allowing me time to make up an excuse as to where it all went as my stomach did a happy dance.

No. Really though. It did get weird.

He expressed that an arrangement with a married couple had put him through college. He lived in the house while the husband was away on work, which was most of the year, and made sure to take GREAT care of the wife. The kicker? The HUSBAND employed him. Interesting. Very Interesting.

Thats when he started spilling that he was ok with his sexuality as the husband had gone down on him a few times but he had never imagined he was gay for partaking. I quietly sipped my water, wishing very hard at that moment that it was wine, and praying for this awkward part of the conversation to end. It of course did, leaving him to ask me what my expectations were. Oh boy. Here it is. The big moment where I define myself as a SB.

Here comes the fail.

I had read on blog after blog to NEVER EVER name a price, allow them to, and then try to double it. Haggle if you will. If you name a price outright, you can get caught for some sort of prostitution etc which in hindsight WAS SUCH A STUPID FEAR because we did not even so much as hit first base yet! I instead ended up looking like a deer caught in headlights, agreeing to a $2500 monthly allowance for 3 visits, including normal dates with overnights when we get to that level. He explained that during those times, I was his girlfriend, but away from there we were completely separate people. I was ready to pounce on the deal but then he uttered the line I knew had put the nail in the coffin for any future plans :

“So, would you come back with me tonight?”

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. I looked at him sweetly and politely declined. Remember what I said before about NOT sleeping with the SD on first meet, especially if terms were not set in stone? My very first rule was already being threatened. He said he was shocked and I could feel the air in the room change ever so slightly. Regardless, I remained optimistic as we walked back to our cars. When I went in for the goodbye hug I again realized failure. This man had just spent $150+ on our dinner and I am giving him a HUG?! I once had sex outside of a waffle house after being treated to a hot chocolate with chocolate chips in it and I was giving this man a HUG?! I quickly fixed the error and we(he) enjoyed a nice tongue on tongue action. I was self conscious as I had finished our meal with a cup of black coffee ( uuuugh stupid mistake. Rookie. ) and probably cut the action a little short. He asked me to text him when I arrived home and he looked forward to seeing me again. With a quick tap to my ass and a giggle from me, we were both walking back to our cars to start our hour long journeys home.

We talked a few more days after that but eventually our texts became less frequent, his planning of the next date less specific, and my interest in other POTs growing larger and larger. I had learned so much from this one date that I promised not to repeat the same mistakes again.

Which I am sure I will soon enough.

The First Taste of Sugar Part II

The day of my first planned date with my POT Sugar Daddy K was surprisingly warm, leaving the floral print for a late lunch/early dinner at an upscale Gellato spot seem perfectly reasonable. I had read in one of the many “How To” articles I had absorbed over the last 24 hours to always allow skin to show mainly in ONE place, not multiple. Since I am rather small chested up top, I opted for the dress that showed off my legs that I work oh so hard for at the gym. By themselves, they are nothing much, but when they are framed by a high waist patterned dress and strappy wedges, my tiny ankles accentuate my pear shape perfectly. Or so I assume.

As I started my hour or so drive it dawned on me…I am really about to do this. I am about to meet a handsome, smart, successful man that wants to PAY ME to spend time WITH HIM. It still to this day does not compute how broken the entire lifestyle is, but at that moment I was all smiles and practicing my sexy/sultry attitude. I must have repeated normal words in my car in different tones of voice 20 billion times in between the radio karaoke I always partake in. When I finally arrived to where we were supposed to meet I realized I had landed smack dab in the middle of a college town. On a weekend. With warm weather.

As I anxiously drove around, trying to find parking, I began to feel a lot more average comparative to the college girls walking the streets. My stomach was in knots and finally I decided to illegally park at a church, I mean I was sure to sin that night anyway (or so I thought), why not just go all the way?! “Smite me for my parking, I dare you!” I said out loud as I threw my car in to park. Right as I was to step out my phone rang, with K’s beaming face popping up brightly on my screen.

“Hello?” I answered.
“Hey, just checking on you. Are you close? I’m parked in the paid lot behind the restaurant.” His cheery and NORMAL voice catching me off guard for a moment.
“Oh..I parked at a church somewhere. Stay there, I’ll come to you. I can’t believe I missed that lot!” I said with a giggle, pretending not to feel as stupid as I looked as my palm met my forehead in a silent “Duh! Its a classy place, why wouldn’t it have back lot parking?!” manner.

In my great masterful skill of avoiding his car like I had planned so he would not see my A to B junker, I parked next to his gorgeous all blacked out Mercedes. Nice. We met at the back of our cars, exchanged hugs, and to my delight he smelled absolutely wonderful. I wanted to gobble him up! However, I tried to play it cool and move my hips in a way that let the short dress point out the my very blessed lower back half.

Dinner went as I thought it would, discussing work and enjoying delicious food that I never imagined I would like. Theres a funny thing about me…I suck at ordering on the spot. But fear not, I prepared by pouring over the menu the night prior, cheap wine in one hand and triscuits in the other. When it came down to it, I ordered none of which I had planned, a salad with grilled chicken, and instead landed on a delicious pork tenderloin with spinach, cherries, and fancy mashed potatoes. Oh god. Maybe I should name this blog “The Food of Sugar” because oh god. OH GOD. I could get used to that cuisine.

Everything was wonderful until he changed the subjects to what was really important : The Arrangement.

 

The First Taste of Sugar Part I

After toying with the idea for a few weeks, I finally bit the bullet and joined a Sugar website. I quickly uploaded a few random shots which, now looking back, really need to be replaced, and created a quick little blurb about how awesome I am / Why everyone should feel lucky to even be near me. Laugh. Yeah.

The first day I was drowned in messages from as close as 5 miles away and as far as the other side of the U.S. While this was all exciting, I was a bit overwhelmed and decided to take matters in to my own hands. After a quick search with a very broad criteria, I landed on an Asian-Indian man who seemed to be as fit as could possibly be for his age of 38 and equally rich. I fired off a quick wink as well as a request to view his private photos. To my surprise and pure delight, the winks and messages were returned, starting our little adventure.

We will refer to him as K, like for potassium, because I should probably consume more of that delicious substance. But let me get back on track.

From the first few messages we gathered that we were both very much in to fitness, good food, and enjoyed traveling. He was weary of the site because everyone seemed more curious than sure of what they wanted, something I wish I had paid better attention to. Either way, after finally exchanging phone numbers and texting for an entire day, which by the way, included him having someone type his texts FOR HIM while he worked, we finally decided to meet for dinner the coming weekend, halfway between our locations which ended up being an hour drive for both of us.

The idea excited me. I was about to meet with an older man, at a restaurant I had never been to in a town I had never explored. I sucked at parallel parking and the idea sent more fear into my heart that any other thought about the entire evening. As I picked out a floral dress with matching floral wedges, I set out on my first ever Sugar Date.