Death & Nurses

You can go back, you can definitely go back…

My date with May was fabulous fun, starting in a buzzy Mayfair hotel bar, several cocktails hardly touched the sides as she related to me what she’d been up to in the Gulf.

She looked amazing, she’s fortunate to be one of those redheads who can carry a tan and her long red hair was set off quite strikingly against a cream cocktail dress and a pair of nude Louboutin’s, which, if my memory hasn’t turned to complete mush, I had bought her.

Life in the Gulf sounded interesting, as a specialist, she is well paid, but living, especially food, is expensive. She’d had a couple of affairs with married doctors, but nothing serious.

We moved on to a favourite sushi place and by 11 we were all over each other, I have to admit that being the weak-willed Daddy I am, I invited her back to my flat.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve always found that being one of two horny, pissed people in the back of a taxi is one of life’s pleasures.

We were soon kissing amorously, like the pair of pissed fuckbuddies we used to be.

My hand moved up her thigh to check if she was still a Good Girl, she certainly was, no panties and a bare, wet pussy.

Weeks of frustration melted away with my judgement and no sooner were we out of the cab and through my front door, we were in bed.

Sometimes, some frantic vanilla sex can be just what body and soul needs.

As we lay there exhausted, in that wonderful clammy closeness, I was expecting to hear May ask if we could pick up where we left off 18 months before, but  I looked over and she was dead to the world.

I would have to wait until morning.

Not quite a Sugardate

Wow, fast moving May has suggested cocktails tonight at one of our old hangouts, wasn’t expecting this until next week.

Feel excited about a date for the first time in ages, given the trail of recent disappointments.

Usually with May, it was trying to stop ourselves getting too pissed if we intended to have any kind of D/S scene, it’s never good to go there whilst under the influence.

My real dilemma is what do I say if she suggests we re-start our Arrangement?

Is it good to go back?

Can I resist that cute look she has when she looks up at me and says “Sir, I have been a naughty girl and I need your punishment”…

I am notoriously weak-willed 😉

Memory Lane

Got an email out of the blue today from May, a former Sugar date of mine, who’s been abroad nursing for nearly a year.

She’s back in London next week and wants to hook up for a date, some light on the horizon…

We used to get on well, both in and out of the bedroom, but I had just met an SB who was slightly better suited to me, so we parted on good terms and kept in touch.

She’s dropped some pretty clear hints that she’d like to pick up where we left off…which, given she is one the most exciting Submissives I’ve met, may be hard to refuse. The bar tab I used to collect after we’d have an average night on cocktails at the Blue Bar or Hakkasan lives in the memory.

Hoping Memory Lane can be a cool place to visit…

 

Supply & Demand

I don’t know if I’m missing something here, but last time I was actively looking for a Sugarbabe, I was inundated with ladies who chased me constantly.

Over the intervening 18 months or so, I haven’t put on any weight, am just as solvent and am still in possession of the same ole’ charm I had before.

Why, therefore, does it seem that a large percentage of the women who contact me then expect me to chase them?

It ain’t happening girls….

What amazes me more, is that when you get talking to most prospective Sugarbabes, you hear endless stories of being messed around, guys who want endless email and text ping-pong and all sorts of other timewasters…

So when I clearly show I’m a serious, experienced SD, why do they think I should be doing the chasing?

Can anyone recommend a better site than Seeking Arrangement?

 

 

Are you serious?

Nikki has left me speechless…

First of all, if you are an aspiring Sugarbabe and you are, how can I put it, more than slightly overweight, it’s a good idea not to hide it on your profile.

Saying you have a normal figure and being anything but, begs the question that you are normal size where? Mid-West USA, Middlesborough, Swindon??

Anyway, I’ve nothing against the larger lady, but it would be nice to know.

However Nikki’s levels of deception were only surpassed by the fact she lives in la-la land.

Telling your prospective Sugardaddy that you have a boyfriend and that the only sex between us will be a “handjob”, or maybe some oral, “but only if you wear a condom” caused about as much sexual excitement in me as a trip to the company accountant.

I fear Nikki may be on the shelf for some time to come.

Back on the Horse…

After the shock of Anna and the Oysters, I got back on the horse yesterday and responded to a few mails.

Found an interesting one from a girl who called herself Nikki.

Nikki sounds interesting, blond, good figure and she’s a post grad student at Oxford, not far from where I live. Says she’s a frequent visitor to London…so all very promising.

The thought of some afternoons together locally, when I’m ‘working from home’, has put a smile on my face.

Lunch tomorrow duly arranged.

Anna and the Oysters

London has many fine restaurants and I have always managed to combine my Sugardating with exploring them further.

I’d much rather be sampling some of the finest food and wine on the planet with my Sugardate, than the dull, hard-nosed and frankly, uncivilised corporate Americans that I usually have for lunch company.

So, it was off to a famous Mayfair seafood restaurant for my meeting with Anna.

Anna is a 27 year old business Masters student from Atlanta, somewhere in the pre-date chat I’d neglected to ask where she was from, so to be greeted with the accent of a southern belle took me back slightly.

No matter, she is tall, blond and immaculately turned out, so a good start, most of all, she was bang on time.

The chat was easy and we got on well, I was getting some warm vibes and all seemed to be pointing towards moving it on.

Then came the oysters.

Seeing a woman eating oysters should usually be a slightly erotic experience, however, Anna didn’t simply eat them, she obliterated them.

I have never seen anyone devour them so greedily, worst of all was the noise…

By this time the chablis had started to kick in and Anna then became slightly, how shall I put it, loosened up.

By the time I’d heard her views on gays (“the work of the devil”) and denigrating anyone who didn’t seem to be a card-carrying member of the KKK, I was done in. It was all rather like being trapped in a Channel 5 documentary.

I felt I’d spent my lunchtime with a rabid southern baptist preacher, who’s forever changed my opinion of the seductive quality of the oyster.

I fear the search goes on.