In response to a number of requests, I’ve been asked to finish the story of the incident I mentioned in my very first post, which gave me the idea for this blog in the first place…
Being a married Sugardaddy means the Domestic Struggle is always just round the corner.
Dates, overnights and even just a lunch or dinner, all require a degree of planning that the single Sugardaddy doesn’t have to bother with, such is life.
Three years ago, I’d been in the Sugarbowl for a couple of months and was a few weeks in to what turned out to be my first long-term relationship. It was with Aurelie, a 28 year old French student in London studying for her MBA.
Now, my trips to London and overseas are regular, which gave me the opportunity for Sugaring in the first place, my wife had our two young children to look after, so I was rarely having my travel arrangements messed up.
I would arrange to see Aurelie, usually on the night before I went overseas, so all v straightforward.
We had fallen into a comfortable pattern, I’d book us a chic hotel room and being a student (albeit from a wealthy family), I would allow her to charge her afternoon time in the spa to the room, I’d arrive for a cocktail around 7 and we’d be set up for the night, me freshly showered and changed and her buffed up from several hundred pounds worth of waxing, manicures and massages.
I was on the way from my midtown office to a lunchtime meeting in the West End, when my phone rang, it was my wife…
“Darling, think I’m going to come up to London this afternoon to do some shopping, will you be around this evening?”
Suddenly, my mind flashed across an exciting montage of Aurelie lying on our hotel bed, fresh from the spa in just stockings and a bra, waiting for me in the room. Cocktails at my favourite bar, then our expected cosy dinner at Nobu, to being back in the hotel and some intense lovemaking…all cruelly cut short by my darling wife demanding my presence at our flat.
My palms went very sweaty, very quickly at the thought of this planned opportunity for a night of hedonism going so pear-shaped.
“Well, don’t forget I’ve got that dinner tonight with Ed and his investors”
My capacity for short notice fibbing was improving,
“Oh honey, of course, well I don’t want to bother you, you’ve got work, so I’ll get some supper in the flat and see you in the morning”
OK, so this was salvageable. I could spend the night with my incredibly hot French Sugarbabe and roll in back to the flat in the early hours…
Now, being a naturally confident kind of guy, I sometimes have to give myself a reality check. Could I really get away with spending the evening fucking Aurelie and slide into bed later and pretend I’d been at a business dinner?
I thought it was worth a try!
I arrived at our hotel just after 7, Aurelie, as was my usual instruction, was in just her stockings and bra, she just glowed. It was worth the risk just to see that.
We had a fabulous dinner and when we arrived back at the hotel she was perfect. Aurelie had a huge capacity for being spanked, which sometimes left even me exhausted.
Tonight she had decided that she wanted her money’s worth and when we finally collapsed, totally spent, I held her and we both slipped into a deep sleep.
The next thing I remember was waking with that terrible “Oh my God, I’ve forgotten something important” feeling.
For what seemed like minutes I couldn’t remember what it was, then the thunderous reality hit me.
“Fuck, I’m meant to be sleeping with my wife in our flat”
I looked at my watch, 12.30am, ok, taxi would take 20 mins this time of night, time to go.
I smelt of sex, there really is no polite way to put it, so straight into the shower.
I left a note in French for Aurelie, kissed her and shot out of the hotel into a passing cab.
Creeping into the flat, I headed to the kitchen and poured myself a scotch, for a mouthwash, rather than to drink. I undressed and slipped into bed. My wife is usually a heavy sleeper, but she woke.
“Darling, glad you’re back, how was your night?”
“It was heavy, those guys know how to drink”
“You smell of scotch, guess you had a good time”
“Yes honey, it was a laugh”
Barely able to keep my eyes open, I slipped into sleep before I had the chance to even replay the evening’s amazing events in my mind.