Daddy’s Lunch Break

After Nina’s recent birthday, an evening that will live in my fond memories bank for some time to come, I have started to notice that she is becoming more demanding in breaking our previously agreed structure, from two meets a month, we seem to be meeting weekly.

We haven’t seen each other for nearly 10 days, which is unusual, but she’s been on study leave before a big exam and unfortunately I’ve been mad busy.

So last week, when I was booked to be in London for a two-day legal conference I didn’t absolutely have to go to, thoughts turned to seeing my little girl, when I got a text from Nina that simply read,

“Study leave – daddy I’m bored x”

Normally if Nina became too demanding whilst I was at work, she’d get a curt reply, but the great weather we’ve been having made me less of a 8-6 grouch than usual. What else to do, but seize the day…

Within 20 mins I was in a cab to my gym to collect some things from my locker and within an hour I had checked into our favourite hotel on Park Lane.

I sat on the bed of an outrageously large room, benefit of having a corporate account is that I always get upgraded to a junior suite, tapping out a text to Nina…

“1 hour, an envelope in yr name at XXX Hotel desk”

I went over to the desk and pulled out a piece of the hotel’s beautifully printed notepaper and pulled out my pen….”Room 511, go in, be in position on the bed and wait for daddy”. I slipped in a key card and sealed the envelope.

I took the lift down to reception and handed the envelope to the receptionist, telling her that a colleague would be here in an hour to collect it and went off to the one of the two bars in the hotel, the one that has a direct view of the main entrance, found an anonymous corner and ordered a drink.

One of the things I love most about Nina is that she is never late (see previous posts!)…bang on 1, I saw my beautiful, elegant little walk confidently through the revolving doors and up to the reception desk.

Game on.

Now, people who don’t understand the beauty of dominance and submission have no idea how sexy making your sub, or little, wait can be.

As the minutes ticked by, my mind reflected back to what else I had done before I left the room. On the bed I had left three things. A note, a blindfold and one of her birthday presents, a metal butt plug.

I think you’re probably getting the picture.

By now it was 10 past 1, I wouldn’t leave until quarter past.

Within 2 mins of leaving the bar I was at the door of our room, it opened into a darkness relieved only by a soft light coming from the bathroom, just as I’d left it. With one difference, there was now a beautiful, naked woman on all-fours on the bed, with her arse in the air, the silver shine of a jewelled butt plug clearly defined against her beautiful black bottom..

The door clicked shut behind me and I noticed a definite wobble in Nina as she shifted uneasily on the bed.

Anticipation is all. As Nina’s imagination worked overtime in the total blackness behind the blindfold, I set to work.

I had laid out my tools on an ottoman by the window, a crop, a rubber paddle and a flogger.

I started with the crop, taps around her gorgeous full arse, down the back of her legs, each becoming slightly crueller, as the flick increased.

I gestured with the crop for her to push her kneeling legs apart, she obeyed immediately.

I spoke for the first time, “Nina, daddy had a busy day today and didn’t appreciate his little princess needing fucking like some common whore”

She mumbled “I’m sorry daddy”

I turned back to the ottoman and picked up the ball gag and gathering her long hair, reached underneath and tightened the leather buckle. Next I fastened her ankles to a spreader bar and moving a pillow down for her head, as I fastened her wrists to the same bar.

This had the effect of raising her arse higher in the air.

Through the gag Nina emitted a soft moan.

I set back to work with the crop, harder and harder, then started slapping it against her bald cunt, the moans became more and more urgent.

“My little slut must learn that daddy only punishes her to make her better”

A nod and a louder moan as the crop impacted with full force on her beautiful black cunt.

I had been working on her for at least 30 mins and her reaction to each stroke was electric. I switched from the slap of the crop, to my hand, to a fiendish rubber paddle, then a leather flogger.

Nina was flying. Now time for some pleasure.

My fingers pushed into her wet cunt, slowly, but forcefully. Her back arched and her arse pushed down onto my hand, then in slipped a third finger.

My fingers were working her g-spot, I knew what I wanted to achieve and within 20 seconds she started shaking uncontrollably. moaning as if the gag wasn’t there, then wetness run down my wrist as she gushed onto my hand. An amazingly hot moment.

I grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back….”daddy thinks his little girl should be studying, not acting like a common slut”

I removed the gag and moved up with my back on the headboard, as I sank forward Nina knew what to do, her mouth opened wide and hungrily sank onto my cock.

I was spent within a few blissful minutes.

The scene over, I checked in with her, all good.

Unbound, we lay cuddling, her putting her head on my chest as I stroked her hair, only moving to get the door for room service bringing us tea.

Within an hour I was back in Holborn, in a meeting to discuss an upcoming German project. I had to read the minutes several times after to remind myself what was discussed.

My mind was definitely not in the room.

Nina’s Birthday

Several weeks of daddy/little adventures have passed since I last wrote about life with Nina, work has been hectic, but Nina and I have managed to meet once a week at least and I’ve not had so much fun for a long time.

As we hurtled into May, I was conscious of a serious daddy opportunity looming large on the horizon, Nina’s birthday.

Fortunately it coincided with a week that saw Mrs LSD take her annual pilgrimage to the Highlands of Scotland to visit her parents, so I had 2 or 3 days free to entertain Nina.

My plan was simple. Tuesday night we would eat in a private dining club I know in Mayfair, then on Weds morning we’d drive out of the city to a spa in the Surrey countryside for the night. Nina could have the full-on spa treatment and emerge beautifully waxed and buffed. Sound plan.

Tuesday lunchtime arrived and I got the usual pre-date text from Nina,

“Daddy, am I to wear panties tonight?”

An easy reply for what I had in mind – “No panties”

We met just after 7 at one of our favourite bars, which is just round the corner from the restaurant. I love spotting Nina before she sees me, she was in my favourite red dress, figure hugging, but not too revealing. It sets off her dark skin perfectly, which seemed to glow in the evening sunshine.

I was bursting to see her.

The bar was already busy, that Tuesday was the first sunny day in London after what seemed like weeks and there was a tangible feeling of collective joy in the air, a realisation that summer’s on the way.

We did what we always do, I gently kissed her cheek and as I did she whispered into my ear “Hello daddy” 

The work de-stress then followed, I listened as Nina told me a sad story about a client that had lost an immigration appeal and looked like being deported after which, my day, which involved sacking a temp, seemed rather dull.

Drinks finished, we headed off. The dining club was recommended to me by a wealthy friend that I was at uni with. It’s very old money and operates a strict membership policy, which fortunately my friend was able to fix for me.

As we arrived we were offered a choice between Crystal or Dom Perignon champagne, this was not shaping up to be a reasonably priced evening….

Then the highlight, our private dining room. Our overly officious French maitre d’ opened the door to a very small, beautifully decorated room, with a large red velvet bench that ran round the room in a semi-circle, enveloping the table.

“Sir, tonight we have our six course tasting menu and matched wines, my colleague here will be serving you, however, if for any reason you do not wish to be disturbed, please press this button”

I looked to my left to see a small brass switch, marked “Privacy”, I guess this was a regular venue for some high end, confidential business and I had some of my own…

The food was sublime and the Michelin stars certainly earned, but Nina and I were beginning to find it a distraction. After the waiter had left us, she turned and whispered into my ear,

“I want to make daddy happy now”

Now, usually I would have been only too happy to be falling back into the padded comfort of the banquette and letting Nina’s gorgeous mouth take over, but no, it was her birthday and I was going to make it memorable…

We started kissing and I started to slide my hand between her legs, until I reached her beautiful, bare cunt.

She gasped a little into my ear those two words that when so breathlessly uttered, make me hard in seconds “Oh, daddy”

Nina was so warm and wet that my fingers slipped in easily and within a few seconds she had fallen back onto the banquette and was slipping into a trance of sheer pleasure.

Now, Nina is a very vocal lover and whilst we were guaranteed no interruptions from the staff, I didn’t want the whole building to know we were fucking, so in a flash, I picked up her napkin, rolled it around in my free hand and made an improvised ball gag.

“Daddy’s little girl needs to stop sounding like a slut” and with that, in it went, she seemed surprised, but bit down on it and closed her eyes.

In a matter of moments, with my fingers still working furiously, she came hard and as she did, the magical moans of my very satisfied lover, though slightly muffled, were enough for me to know that private dining was a seriously sexy option.

“Nina, daddy wants you to take him in your mouth and he wants you to make him cum like the whore you are”

As always, Nina went to work with enthusiasm bordering on the demented, in no time, we were both spent.

I flicked the privacy switch off and moments later a waitress appeared, “Would you like to choose a pudding?”

We looked at each other and giggled….

Life with Nina

The last four weeks have been exhilarating…

Since our first date in February, Nina and I have abandoned the initial plan of meeting every fortnight and are now seeing each other weekly.

To Nina, I am Daddy and that’s the dynamic, I am a Daddy Dom.

So, last Thursday started as a typical date. We met at 7 for a cocktail, before going on for dinner at a Mayfair landmark.

Nina was in a particularly brattish mood and Daddy was feeling more than a little pissed at her behaviour.

At this point I should mention that we have protocols in place. The protocols are that I speak for Nina, so when a waiter talks to her, she defers to me and I answer.

To annoy me, she had decided to dispense with our agreed rules of behaviour.

So, I had decided she needed discipline.

“Daddy, can I go to the ladies?”

“No Nina, you may not”

At this I could see her start to shuffle in her seat, but ignored her.

Dinner passed by and I could see she was becoming visibly more uncomfortable, which is just where I wanted her.

“Daddy, please, could I go to the bathroom?”

“No Nina, Daddy is cross with you”

I told her we should have coffee and the look on her face was priceless, no taxi home, yet.

Coffee came and went and I could see she was visibly distressed.

“We can go now” as I downed the last of my espresso.

We made our way to the cloakroom by the exit, Nina inadvertently asked for her coat and Daddy was even more irritated.

Out into the chilly spring air and by this time, Daddy was giving Nina the silent, pissed treatment. I hailed a cab and opened the door for her.

After telling the driver the address of my flat, I switched off the intercom and turned to Nina.

“Why have you made Daddy cross?”

She whimpered, “You’ve been a very bad girl, do you know what this means?”

“Yes Daddy” was barely audible.

At this point I grabbed her hair tightly and thrust my hand up her short, black skirt, immediately feeling a damp patch on her knickers.

“You’ve wet yourself”

“Yes Daddy, I was desparate”

I pulled my hand away and shuffled over across the cab seat, away from her.

“Daddy is cross with you, when we get home you are to go immediately to the bathroom and adopt the position”

The “position”was what Nina understood. To be naked on all-fours, awaiting Daddy’s pleasure.

Moments later the cab arrived at my flat and Nina turned off the hall into the wetroom.

I decided that now was just the right time for a drink, Nina could wait until I was ready.

Ten minutes later I came into the bathroom, there in front of me was this beautiful black body, visibly shaking.

“Nina, you have made Daddy cross, do you now why?”

“Yes Daddy, I have broken the rules”

“You have. Do you know what Daddy wants you to do?


“I want you to piss all over the floor, now, in front of me”

Nina seemed to shake more at this point and then suddenly a stream hit the tiled floor, it seemed to go on for ages and as she released she shook even more violently.

When it subsided I moved up behind her and with a sudden, swift move spanked her, hard. Then again and again. She yelped with the shock of it and after 10 hard spanks I pushed my fingers into her, she was soaking.

I invaded her with my fingers and within what seemed seconds, she came, harder than I had known before, collapsing in front of me onto the wet bathroom floor.

This was truly awesome.

I fell to the floor beside her and held her tight.

“Nina, we’re done – are you ok?”

“Daddy that was amazing”

I kissed her, it truly was.




Escort or Sugarbabe?

Despite the run of disclaimers on the sugar dating sites, “if you are an escort, please do not use this site”, kind of thing, escorts are rife.

If you leave your profile visible, which I never recommend, you will very soon get quite a few messages that are basically from hookers,

“My friend and I are in Mayfair tonight and we could meet you for £500” or the slightly more subtle, “Can we have a pay by date arrangement”

Now, this is not some downer on escorts, I’m sure there are quite a few SBs out there who’ve been down that road, Mr LSD amongst them.

But if I wanted an escort, I know where to go. I don’t, I want a Sugarbabe.

So, how to tell….

Firstly, photos. Your average Sugarbabe doesn’t have a set of beautifully airbrushed pics, that usually look like they were done at a continuous photoshoot. It’s always a mixture, one or two portrait shots, a couple of iphone selfies and maybe one of them amongst a group of friends on a night out. (Pictures of your prospective SB with a range of male companions are more of a turn-off than a sign she’s an escort!)

Next, check her out. OK, so at this stage you have very little information to go on, but let’s say she says she lives in Kilburn, an area of north west London. Find the postcode and go to a popular escort site like Pop in NW6 to the search engine and look for escorts in a 2-3 mile radius. You can narrow the search down a bit if she is say black, or asian. You may get 20-30 results and it’s easy to quickly flick through. I have found 3 out this way, the most interesting being one who escorts as a couple with her husband – she’d also told me she lived alone!

Thirdly, where’s the job? Unless she’s a student, which is easily checkable, or the beneficiary of a trust fund, she needs a job. It’s easy to verify if your sugarbabe is a student, students leave a prolific e-trail, google her course, her college and up will pop some line of information that will prove she’s a genuine student. So, if you can’t find her, or her job seems sketchy, chances are she may be an escort.

Lastly and this is a useful tip generally, verify the photos. When you start the initial contact, it’s not a bad idea to say you’ve been stung before and could they send a selfie next to today’s newspaper….any genuine SB won’t mind.

Lastly, trust your brain, not your dick. Most women don’t launch into sexually explicit convos with complete strangers, they may allude to certain things, say being submissive, but any woman who launches into a detailed itinerary of what she’d loved to do to you the first time you’re alone should make you think.


Of course, all this said, one of my favourite SBs had done some escorting in her earlier years and was completely upfront about it. We dated for 9 months and it was not just some of the best sex ever, but she was also an amazing sub….

It’s just good to know.


Hello Daddy…

A Thursday night date in London and at last Nina and I got to see each other after a three week delay.

It was with a delicious mix of excitement and trepidation that I left work at 7.30, to grab a taxi over to Soho to a sushi restaurant that Nina suggested.

Thursday being the new Friday in London (cliche alert), it was heaving. I checked my coat in at the reception and made my way to the massed lump of people crowded at the bar.

The traffic was light and I’d got there early, so there was time to spend before Nina was due. The menu irritated me, for some stupid marketing reason, some idiot had thought it was a good idea to tweak a few classic cocktails with some unneccessary flourishes…please. I managed to convince the barman that I really did only want an ordinary Tanquerey Martini and victorious, settled into a quiet corner.

Within seconds, my phone vibrated to a text from Nina, ’10 mins away x’.

Nina arrived, I leapt up and made my way over to her as she joined the short queue to check in her coat. We kissed, we fit well height-wise and it seemed so comfortable, like we’d kissed many times before.

We were led to a table in the basement by a Russian hostess with a very unfortunate manner, I guided Nina from behind, which gave me every opportunity to suck up the beautiful visual image of her in a tight, short black dress.

She looked wonderful, the dress, some pearls and a silver Cartier tank.

“So tell me about your day?” I was immediately hooked back into her.

We chatted just like before, easily and comfortably, so much so that our first bottle of champagne was gone and I hadn’t noticed.

Despite the fact that with small dish Nikkei cuisine, the food and the interruptions seems to never stop, we didn’t notice.

So, onto the second bottle.

There was a small pause in the convo, the she looked up at me and said, “I really want to call you Daddy, do you mind?”

“Of course you can, tell me more about how you want this to work?”

“I want you to Daddy me, treat me like your little girl, when I’ve been naughty you must, well, make me see I’ve been bad”

“Of course I can darling, I wouldn’t be much of a Daddy if I didn’t. Daddy can be harsh, but it’s only because he wants to look after you”

“I understand, it’s what I need”

“Well, in that case”, I slipped into my authoritative voice, “I need your limits, your wants and hates”

“Yes Daddy”

“If you’re not sure about anything that you think may interest you, just say, we can then explore it together”

There then followed Nina mention a number of things, some she tried and had been disappointed by, but wanted to give another go, to things she was totally curious over.

It was at this point that I realised that I couldn’t remember wanting to fuck someone so much.

Sadly though, this was a first date and that was not in the plan.

We passed midnight and I called Nina a cab, I saw her to it and we kissed one last time.

I hailed myself a taxi and settled back into my seat for the ride to my flat, when just then my phone pinged, it was a text from Nina,

“Look in your pocket”

I dug into my deep overcoat pocket and felt some material, I pulled it out, it was a black thong.

Then a couple of minutes later, a second text,

“Daddy I promise I will never wear these again when I’m with you”





Next Steps

The last couple of weeks have been torture.

After my brunch with Nina at the end of last month, we’ve been trying to arrange a first date, I had to cancel, she had to, then we ran into the dreaded half term skiing trip with Mrs LSD and the little ones.

The torture has been made worse by the fact that rather than having exchanged just a few warm texts and emails, she’s been increasingly opening up on her wishes and desires for this arrangement.

Usually too much texting is a distraction from a bloody busy day job, but her’s have been a pleasure, touching on all sorts of areas that have excited and intrigued me.

Now, previous readers will know that this Sugardaddy never fucks on a first date, but I have to say, that’s going to be a tough rule to keep to.

If you remember from last time, we had made tentative steps in kink territory, but the door to that secret garden was well and truly kicked in, at the end of a text convo that went on for a couple of hours until early morning…

Nina – “Can you tie me up?”

LSD – “Yes”

Nina – “What I love about that is then being humiliated”

LSD – “How?, what works for you?”

Nina – “Insults and most of all, well, I don’t wanna say”

LSD – “Go on, er, believe me I’m pretty broadminded”

The compose bubbles on her iPhone seemed to be stuck, then, what seemed like 5 mins later…

Nina – “I love being pissed on”

At this I sighed and cursed the fact that I am writing this from a ski chalet in Austria, rather than facing a bound Nina at my feet.


First Brunch

Brunch is a good time to meet a prospective SB.

It’s the sort of date which can be cup-of-coffee brief, or, if the convo is flowing and the attraction is there, can easily become a leisurely, playful, lunch.

Of the three prospective SBs, one, Nina, was keen and eager to meet. The other two were irritating me by coming back with timings that were awkward, until I got to the point of thinking, sod it, it’s you who’s meant to be chasing me….

So, Tuesday morning at 11 saw me at one of my favourite places, The Wolseley on Piccadilly, waiting for Nina.

What did I know about her? Well, quite a lot already, she was 26 and in her first job as a lawyer for a mid-sized firm in central London, she’d been to a good uni and although originally from the West Indies, had been to an independent school in the UK.

Apparently her father was some kind of diplomat and the family had lived in London for years.

Her photos were not very clear, which is usually a bad sign, but from the tone of her messages she was obviously well-educated and I thought that it was worth meeting to see if we ‘clicked’.

I got there 10 minutes early and secured a good table with a view of the main doors, I took some time to absorb the others nearby, to my right a couple of suited Americans, who from their convo were obviously bankers. Several Spanish tourists chatted loudly and incessantly on another table to my left. So, a perfect table where we could talk discretely.

Bang on 11, I saw a tall, very elegant black woman come through the doors and walk confidently up to the guy at the reception. I could see she was being pointed to my table. I was immediately captivated by her walk, her figure and her appearance –  a smart dark grey business suit, Mulberry handbag, cream blouse and a short bob.

“Nina?” I needn’t have said, but did, she smiled, I smiled. We kissed a greeting and I invited her to sit and offered her a drink. Good start.

“Yes, lovely to meet you”

The convo was flowing fast quite soon.

We talked about previous arrangements, she’d had two and really enjoyed them, her last was three months ago. We talked about shared interests, we soon settled on music; she played the violin, triathlons and cocktails!

Plenty to be going on with.

The more we chatted, the more interested I became and, I have to admit, aroused.

She was truly gorgeous, slim, yet curvy, full breasts and beautifully turned out, most of all, witty and intelligent.

She found she couldn’t date guys her own age, most bored her, those that didn’t were simply not up to looking after a lady properly. She enjoyed lots about older guys, but particularly the fact that this woman sometimes needed a man in her life who ‘took control’….

In that coded, flirtatious way, we were skirting around why a successful, intelligent woman was seeking a man who could be allowed to dominate certain areas of her life.

Time whizzed by and before long we decided to transform a coffee into brunch.

By 12.45 we had arranged a first date for next week, fixed a monthly allowance and I told her to go away and let me know if she was happy with everything. She said she didn’t need to and the answer was a definite yes.

So we left, I hailed her a cab and we kissed, said our goodbyes and parted.

I walked up Piccadilly towards the tube with a delicious feeling of excitement, I’d found a new Sugarbabe.





The value of a Sugar Baby

This is a really perceptive piece

Tales of a Sugar Daddy

As far as a lot of people are concerned, SB’s and SD’s both, the value in the Sugar Baby is sex, and the value of the Sugar Baby is whatever she’ll give it up for.

After that, it’s a matter of budget and availability. I read a lot of SB blogs and so many of them are high-lighted with “I scored a $1,500 pair of shoes,” or “I only had to blow him for this.”

And if that’s what you’re looking for, you can find it at a price that fits your budget, if you’re patient. You can have it until one or both of you are tired of it, and then most likely, a little older and a little wiser, you can find it again.

But are we cheating ourselves? Let’s look beyond the whole idea of May-December romance and look at the barter system inherent in the SD/SB…

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New Year, New Sugarbabe

So, at last, return to work and, thankfully, a return to London.

New Years was spent with Mrs LSD and the two little ones in a friend’s chalet in Verbier and with the skiing holiday over, I could relax at the thought of hunting for a new Sugarbabe, oh and going back to work, I mean let’s get our priorities right….

Unlike my colleagues in the States, we seem to have meekly accepted a 2 week shutdown over the Holidays, which usually leaves me feeling borderline suicidal by Jan 5th, or whenever the first Mon after New Year falls.

I had about 5 or 6 emails to follow up from before Christmas, well, I say 5 or 6, it was originally 30, but by the time I’d applied my in-built Sugardaddy spam filter and weeded out the a) Escorts, b) Slightly psychotic and c) Sadly desperate, I was left with these.

Some sounded promising, so I fired off my normal first email, something along the lines of “What are you looking for in an Arrangement, where are you based and when can you meet?”

I’m only ever really looking for London based SBs, no point having one who has to commute long distance, hopeless for a short notice afternoon of fun 😉

One of the replies caught my eye, she said how important is was to her to be thought a ‘Good Girl’

Now, one thing I never mention on my profile is my little kink, so it immediately catches my interest if I read a ‘tell’ like that.

Several emails exchanged and we agreed to meet for coffee at a place in the City on Monday.

Typing this on a howling, wet Thursday evening in London, it’s brought a feeling of happy anticipation in an otherwise glum January.



The Office Party

As mentioned before, the Christmas diary has begun closing in and my opportunities for fun before my family incarceration were disappearing fast.

So, the chance of a night out with May was a genuine bolt of good fortune, given that I’m between SBs.

Loyal readers may recall that May, a regular SB from times past, was now based in the North, but that we had a fabulous evening the last time she was in London.

So, Thursday was looming, I’d told May I was free, but then realised that, er, I wasn’t, well, totally.

Thursday was the one night of the year I dread the most, the office party.

As a partner, there was no way I could not go, the senior partner gives a speech, telling us what a good/bad/spectacular (delete as appropriate) year we’ve had etc, etc.

I then have to watch the various younger members of staff get truly shitfaced, some disappear off to the loos to fuck, some to get some charlie in, then they head off, like a herd, to some fucking awful club.

So, if I was to get quality time with May, some tactical fibbing would be needed.

I had arranged to meet her at 9pm, we were going to have a fishy supper at my favourite Mayfair restaurant (well, it is Christmas 😉 ), I planned for us to then head straight for a room I’d booked at a place on Park Lane. I was determined that if this was my last adventure before Christmas, it was going to be memorable.

The party was being held at one of those ‘venues’ in the West End, as always the senior partner’s PA books it and she’s a young woman of very little sophistication.

There were over 100 of us crammed into a function room, the champagne was being effortlessly dispensed and the atmosphere was pretty relaxed, it seemed that most of London was having an office party judging by the streets full of people heading out from work.

After an hour or so, the senior partner did his 5 min oration, telling us how well we’d done and how well 2015 was shaping up. I then took my chance, I got his ear with a story about how one of my little angels was poorly and Mrs LSD was at her wit’s end, would he mind if I headed home? ‘Of course not, do give X my love’.

With that I was flying out the door and in a cab within moments, heading to dinner.

I arrived in the nick of time, a couple of minutes before May.

We had a truly amazing evening, oysters, the most amazing fish and nothing but champagne. Since the summer she’s been promoted and has started seeing someone, but he’s not interested in fulfilling her kink, so, hey, could I?

The dinner flew by and before too long we were in a gorgeous room overlooking Park Lane

I enjoyed delivering her a very sore arse and darling May was in heaven, as was I, remembering what a sublime blowjob giver she is.

A memorable night.

Happy Christmas one and all…