On our third date, he officially became my sugar dad and I his sugar baby. He came over with a few presents and an envelope containing a portion of the allowance. We spent some time getting to know each other but I was very excited to see what he was like in the sex department.
It was a couple of weeks since I seen a client and this made me easily excitable. We started making out and I found myself getting naturally wet. Something that doesn’t happen when I’m with 99% of my clients, I thank my bottle of ID for making each session ‘silky smooth’. I started lifting his shirt off and kissed his shoulders, chest and stroked his skin with my roaming hands.
He slid his hands under my top and undid my bra. As he kissed my neck I felt his finger tips brush against my hardening nipples. I smiled at him and took off my top. We kissed some more and I asked if he’d like to take it to the bedroom. His initial look of astonishment was quickly replaced with a glowing excitement. He followed me to the bedroom where I undressed him and myself.
I will skip the next 15 minutes to a more naïve moment. It was time for us to slip on the rubber and told him to wait a second. I jumped like a pixie off the bed and went to the other room where I hid a large box of condoms. Returning with two Durex packets I placed one on the night stand and started opening the other. I carefully removed the condom with the tips of my fingers and looked at it. I then handed it to him and said, “I am not sure, it might be the wrong side up.” He looked at it in the light and put it on the right side up and rolled it down.
Yes, I know, you can applaud my performance.
You see, he does not know that I am a bona-fide condom rollin’ expert or ever been an escort for that matter. In his eyes I am a struggling young artist. I am pure and clean (using his exact words here). I do not drink or do drugs. I have not been with a man in two or so years.
I play my role too well and I love it.
We had sex. And let me tell you, I have only been with one man that I can compare J to, my last ex-boyfriend. They are both wired for marathon sex sessions. He got off 90 minutes and two buckets of sweat later. I was so tired, not because I worked it, but because my pussy was sore. The only difference is, when I was dating my ex-boyfriend I would ask him to stop and he would usually finish himself off. But as a sugar baby, I feel an obligation to satisfy J.
I’m not bitching though. Just stating what it’s like. These days I just remind myself that I don’t have it so bad! And I get back into it ;)