Back to London Sugarland

My two weeks in Greece have been a great break and a chance for a recharge, though like the workaholic I am, my thoughts over the last few days have been focussed on what awaits me in the office on Monday.

It’s Friday afternoon and another cloudless blue sky. Our last night here should be fun, we’re looking at a major piss-up with some fun Brits we’ve met. I have a strong suspicion that one couple, Jason and Hailey, from somewhere in Kent, are definitely swingers, sadly not really my scene, which is a pity as Hailey is very hot.

The chances of Mrs LSD following me down that road are between remote and non-existent.

Anyway, will try not to go too mad, dealing with two young children at Kefalonia airport tomorrow with a hangover won’t be the best end to a holiday.

Had a mail from Cleo this morning, a couple of rather hot pictures of her in bed perked me up, but as I read through the email I spotted something else. She’s going for an audition on Monday to a northern theatre for a supporting role, if she gets it, she’ll be based there for 4 months. We’re planning to meet on Tues, so I’ll be able to congratulate her.

That could be tricky, although I spend time in the north, it’s all work and little free time when I’m there.

I’m finishing this as I open another beer, thinking that I might be doing some Sugar interviews sooner than I planned.




Sugar Trophies

Into the second week on holiday and I’m getting a bit restless.

Trying not to check work email is becoming more difficult, with so many projects on the go and quite a few imminent, the temptation to see what my colleagues and staff are doing (or, rather not doing) is hard to resist.

Anyway, another lazy afternoon in the sun was dragging on, so I sought some shade and flipped open my laptop.

There were a couple of messages from Cleo, one accompanied by an amazing photo of her lying naked in the sun from the holiday she’s on in Spain, very nicely captioned “Thinking of my Daddy”

I started flicking back through emails from where I left off the other day, with the story of Gisela.

I came across some from a very attractive Sugarbabe called Roniesha, I saw about 2 years ago.

Roniesha was a gorgeous 27 year old ebony beauty from East London, she worked for a major cosmetics company as a Sales Manager.

The thing that I really loved about her was how beautifully turned-out she was. Her grooming was immaculate, which reflected the fact that she spent her working life visiting her company’s counters in London’s main department stores.

Roniesha and I had a few fun dates, I took her to the Heron Tower on a beautiful summer’s evening, just after it opened and we even managed a night in Paris when I was working there.

Looking back through her emails, I rediscovered all the photos she used to send, especially the trophy shots, which I’d saved to my laptop.

Whenever we’d spent the night together, the next day she would What’s App me with a photo of her welted arse, every time the same,  she’d go into a ladies cubicle, skirt up and snap.

Seeing those red marks on her beautiful coffee skin were always the highlight of my day…



Looking Back into Sugar History

The week here in Greece has been wonderful, it’s in the 30’s and the tan is topping up nicely.

Our holiday companions have managed to keep their usual drinking down to about twice the Government weekly guideline and they’ve even spent some time with their children so that I don’t have to, so all good.

It’s Wednesday, market day in the local town and Mrs LSD has gone off to stock us up with provisions, leaving me with two children playing in the pool, a couple of cold beers and my laptop.


Feeling rather lanquid and relaxed in the heat, my mind has been drifting back to some of my early adventures in Sugarland.

Flicking back to early 2012, I came across Gisela.

Gisela was a 23 year old German student, studying at a Uni in central London. We met, when I was a bit of a Sugar virgin, on Seeking Arrangement.

In this early flush of Sugardom it seemed that I was meeting several Sugarbabes a week for ‘interviews’ and each one turned my head and excited my interest in a different way.

Gisela’s line was quite simple. She had put on her profile quite explicitly that she was looking for a domineering ‘Daddy’ figure.

Now, I’ve always liked Germans, since I spent some time living in Berlin and so off I went to meet Gisela one evening in Kensington, with a clear sense of optimism.

We arranged to meet at a chic cocktail bar and when she arrived I got far more than I bargained for.

Now, regular readers are probably kind enough to grant me the title ‘Man of the World’, however, for once I really did feel like a Nun on a night out at a BDSM club, totally out of my depth.

After about 10 minutes chatting, Gisela got down to business.

I heard all about her time living in a commune in Amsterdam, how she had 30 lovers before she was 21 and how she had developed a strong interest in bondage.

I, meanwhile, was trying to assimilate the vast sexual history of one so young and deceivingly innocent-looking.

When I managed to get a word in, I tried to get the convo onto the subject of fine dining, fun shopping and did she like ballet, but I was firmly pushed back.

“No, I really just want to fuck”

Ok…direct and to the point

We parted, as I had a dinner date and we arranged to meet two days later to start our arrangement.

Now, call me old fashioned, but I like to have spent at least one date getting the measure of someone before we get down to it.

That wasn’t going to cut it with Gisela.

We met for lunch in Knightsbridge and I had thought that afterwards we’d do a little shopping.

Lunch was done and I suggested we head over to Harvey Nicks to take in the shoe department,

“Is your hotel near here?” she asked

I told her it was and she replied simply,

“Let’s go then”

And so we did.

The next two hours were the most exhausting of my life and I’ve done triathlons, it’s enough to say that Gisela had an appettite for sex that bordered on the manic.

Ground rules were quickly established,

“I want you to spank me very hard and call me a dirty whore”

I’m not good at taking instructions, but this one I was prepared to take.

And so I did.

The sex was amazing, though at times slightly troubling and the convo was pretty rubbish, I left our liaisons feeling like I’d been through the wringer, but then strangely feeling that it couldn’t last.

I do look back on it as being a fun few weeks, but not really what I wanted from a Sugar relationship.

I think it was after that experience that I tried to be a bit more critical about making sure the non-bed part of the relationship was just as important as the hot, lusty part.

That said, it was fun 😉












One for the Road

The dreaded day of departure to join Mrs LSD in Greece has finally arrived.

Family holidays are an ideal that seldom matches the reality and whilst a week in a villa in Greece with Mrs LSD and the two little ones is one thing, sharing your villa with another family is quite another.

Anna and her husband Rufus could represent England at drinking. Which would be fine if they were childless, but sadly they’re not, sadly for their children that is.

A typical North Oxford academic couple with a drink problem and two brattish children. I’m already filled with horror, remembering that it falls on my wife and I to look after their little ones when they rise, usually about 7ish, which is several hours before their parents are likely to greet the day.

How to prepare myself for this hellish holiday? Only one thing, see Cleo.

I’m writing this in the first class lounge at Gatwick (all those business miles had to pay off sometime), as I wait to board my plane the morning after a fabulous night, I’m smiling, relaxed and ready to face my Greek torture.

Here’s why….

After our adventure earlier this week, we agreed to meet up last night, before we’re both away from each other for a fortnight.

We talked late into the night about the things that excite both of us and what she wanted to try with me.

Whilst Cleo had experience of spanking before, she always wanted to try being restrained and so I told her to do a bit of research and come back with a kind of red/amber/green list.

Into my inbox the next day popped the list.

I scanned down it, there was quite a lot in the green and amber lists and a few things in the red list that don’t do it for me either; needles, strangling, that sort of edgy stuff.

So, as we’d already sorted out a safe word, we were good to go.

I’ve had a lot of experience over the years with rope bondage and have a handy bag full of useful items, including various lengths of red, silky rope.

So, armed with these, a sensible accessory in the form of paramedic’s scissors, a candle and a crop, I was well-equipped to push Cleo’s boundaries.

We were back from dinner to our hotel by half 9, it was a beautiful junior suite, free upgrades always excite me…

I began by gagging Cleo with a ball gag, then set to work creating a chest rig.

With her breasts squeezed between the folds of rope, I then bound her hands to each ankle.

Now it was playtime.

After letting her see the ropework, I decided it was time to take away a sense and blindfolded her.

Then I just stood and waited. And then waited a bit more.

By now I could sense she was becoming a little uneasy and that her imagination was busy filling the void.

I began with a broad, leather paddle, which always gives a very satisfying impact, she flinched and visible strained against her binds.

After a good dozen I stopped, by the end she was straining against the rope and biting down hard on the gag, I then lit my candle. I wanted her to recognise the click of a lighter, then for her imagination to start playing its games again.

However, I was not finished with her gorgeous arse yet and restarted on her with a crop, working my way to her sweet spot, inside her thighs and then onto her pussy. By now she was really warmed up. I ran my fingers over her pussy and leaned in to her ear to whisper,

“Daddy is very cross with you Cleo, you are very wet, just like the slut I took you for”

I removed her blindfold and the look in her eyes was incredible. I then brought up the candle (I’d tested the wax on myself before removing the blindfold – a scalded SB is never good), and began criss-crossing her breasts with liquid red wax, every drop elicited another moan.

Within a few minutes her breasts and nipples were covered, I then grabbed tightly hold of the chest rig and firmly pushed her onto her back.

I moved my aim down to her pussy, the wax running down her reddened, engorged folds, all the while she became more and more excited, then drops began running on to her clit and she was away…

I worked her with my fingers as she came, once, then twice. I removed the gag, to enjoy hearing her letting out a delicious moan.

“Daddy’s going to fuck you now”

“Please” was all she could manage to say.

And I did.







Spanking and Fucking

August really is the pits, well, work-wise.

All of the CEO’s I deal with are on vacation, so are half my staff, it seems impossible to get anything done.

On the plus side, the weather in London this summer has been unusually good and my sugar relationship with Cleo has benefited tremendously, I mean, meeting up after work at rooftop bars in the sunshine really does give your evening a sexy start.

So, along came our most recent date, on a particularly warm and gorgeous Tues evening in London town.

It had been a warm day by London standards and I arranged to meet Cleo at a rooftop bar in the Aldwych, Radio.

I arrived a little late, but Cleo was cool about it. That said, I was a bit grumpy when I got there, some crap I’d had to deal with just before I left the office.

Now, I’ve already noticed that Cleo has a slightly arsey side and when she’s angling for a hard spanking I’ve noticed how she will deliberately, yet subtly, wind me up.

With just certain things she does, she’ll try to get a rise out of me and the first was staring me in the face.

First of all, you have to know that in my quest to be a perfect Sugardaddy, in addition to her Allowance, I give Cleo £300 ($200) a month to cover maintenance – waxing, nails, hair and so on,

So, the fact that her nails were unpainted and her hair messy, struck me immediately.

“Er, have you been auditioning for some part as a rather unkempt woman with low grooming standards?” I asked

“No Daddy, I just didn’t get round to it”

The game had begun…

“Really?”, I replied, “Daddy is not pleased to see you looking like this, you look like a common slut”

“I am sorry I’ve disappointed you Daddy – will you punish me?”

At this point, my shitty day and everything that was bugging me, melted away in a second.

“Yes Cleo, I am going to severely punish you, we have an agreement and you have broken it – think on that, I will be back in a minute”

My company has an account with the hotel, I pulled out my phone and dialled downstairs to reservations – I explained I was in the bar and needed a room.

Within 10 minutes a Concierge was on the rooftop with a room key, delivering it with a rather obvious flourish, Cleo seemed shocked,

“How did that happen?”

“Simple, I wanted a room, I’ve got a room. I am going to deal with you now. Go to room 507 and wait for me there”

I handed Cleo the keycard and she got up and left.

I glanced at my watch, I thought 15 minutes was about right, so I ordered another mohito.

After I finished it, I headed to the room.

There on the bed, on all fours, was my beautiful Sugarbabe. She had hitched her dress up and her bare arse was beautifully displayed.

I had thought about spanking her there and then, but I wanted the punishment to be slightly humiliating.

I sat on the bed, “lay over my lap”, I commanded.

Without a murmur, she moved over, pulled up her dress and bent over my lap.

I stared down at this gorgeous arse and her waxed pussy and got to work.

Her rear reddened with every smack…by 20, she was positively glowing and moaning softly.

Now it’s my turn I thought. I unzipped my cock and pulling her hair, forced her head on to it.

“Now slut, I want you to remember Daddy hates disobedience”

Cleo sucked me like a street hooker in a hurry and after a few minutes, I was coming in her mouth.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you Daddy”, she coughed as she swallowed

Such outstanding understanding of punishment deserved something in return and within minutes my fingers brought her to an orgasm.

I held her tightly as we lay together.

“Daddy hates it when you make him cross”

“I know, I’m sorry Daddy”

This morning I got a pic from Cleo of her rose-red backside, simple message “This is my arse this morning – thank you daddy”

My day was made and it was only 9.30am.






Why I Love London’s Cabbies

Thursday was a great afternoon with Cleo in St James’s.

I was still on a high after our adventures at the Polo on Saturday and with me booked out of the office, it was the perfect opportunity for an undisturbed fest of good food and fucking.

Cleo was on a high, she’s been called back for a couple of auditions and so there was an all-round good vibe as we lunched and then drifted the afternoon away in bed.

Come 7, I had to head to a dinner in the City, so I offered to run her back to Shoreditch.

The taxi stopped by her flat, I opened the door, got out and kissed her goodbye, before getting back in and asking the cabbie to take me to the Embankment.


I sank back into my seat, feeling both tired and elated, when suddenly the cabbie piped up,

“You don’t mind me saying mate, is that your girlfriend?”

“Yes, she is” I replied, feeling more than a little smug, but desparately trying not to sound it

“You bloody lucky bastard, how do you do it?”

Mr Modest kicked in… “Oh, well, I don’t know, er, well, she’s a friend”

“Yeah, right, pull the other one, tell me how you pulled her” (Cabbies are the only people who still talk like this)

“Oh, ok, if you must know, I let her call me daddy when I fuck her”

A long period of silence…

“I wouldn’t care what she called me if I got to fuck her”



Tips for Sugardaddies No.4 – Sugarbabe or Pimp?

Ok, so you’re on a Sugardating website and you’ve struck up a convo with a hot, potential Sugarbabe.

She’s sent you some pretty explicit pictures, she’s up for anything and prefers a pay by date arrangement.

This is all good you think.

Just wait a minute, how would you feel if you knew you’re having this hot convo with a guy, who’s controlling this profile and another half a dozen?

That’s taken the edge off hasn’t it? 😉

Does this happen?

Sure does, two SBs I have met both admitted that their profiles were created and managed by, well, pimps.

They gave a % of their ‘pay by date’ fee to these guys.

So, how do you spot if your SB is an escort in disguise?

Few things to look for, firstly, I’d say the whole pay per date thing.

Secondly, when you’re having this hot convo, ask for a picture with them holding up today’s date – I know that’s a sure test, twice I’ve asked for that and the convo magically ended. (My thanks to JustaSugarDaddy for this tip)

Lastly, look for very similar profiles – these guys are lazy and they will often simply copy & paste between the profiles of the girls they manage – simply do an advanced search for an unusual phrase one uses, if it’s used elsewhere, it’ll pop up.

Lastly, if you’re bothered that the woman you’ve met is an escort and that really bothers you, then be suspicious of jobless SBs, that obvs doesn’t include students…How do they support themselves if they don’t have a job, or a (genuine) rich daddy?

But then, you may decide it doesn’t matter…


Cliché Alert – Sugar and Polo

Ok, here it is, hold on to your cliché meter, which is now gonna go off the scale…

Yesterday was a perfect day to be a Sugardaddy.

Smith's Lawn

I had some tickets for a charity polo match just outside London, fortunately it was a beautiful day and I had arranged to meet Cleo at 11 in Kensington.

As Mrs LSD was now safely away in Greece, I decided to use her Mercedes convertible, as I drove down the M40 to London, I went over in my head the perfect Sugarday before me.

Cleo was waiting for me when I pulled up outside our rendez-vous, she looked immaculate in a short white skirt and green patterned silk halter-neck top, her long tanned legs beautiful from her beige heels up.

I think she must have had some ‘getting into a sports car elegantly’ lessons, she glided into the car like a model – I am sure her parents would have been pleased that all those school fees were not wasted.

Polo really is the sport of Kings, though despite this club being a regular haunt of the royals, that day the crowd were very ‘new’ money; it was, after all, being supported by a famous jeweller to London’s eastern European movers.

Not only that, but it seemed it almost qualified as a Sugardating sponsored event, plenty of guys, some elegant and cool, some a little sleazy, all with younger women in tow.

The play was of a great, high goal standard and pretty exhilarating stuff, Cleo had never been before and was severely impressed by the spectacle of 8 polo ponies charging down the edge of the pitch, pushing and jostling their way towards the ball, sticks flailing.

So, at the half time point, we upped the ‘Pretty Woman’ scale, treading the divots – quite hilariously ineffectual, if you’re wearing 5″ heels…

By now the champagne had kicked in and we decided to head into the shade of the woods on the edge of the grounds.

We found a spot amongst the trees, shaded from the sun and I lay down the blanket.

Within moments we were kissing, I could hear the mumbled PA in the distance announcing the next chukka, but I was strangely distracted from the polo as I felt Cleo rubbing my cock through my trousers.

She moved down to take me in her mouth and within seconds I was the sort of hard you get when you anticipate the need your partner has for an urgent fuck.

Within seconds she pulled up her skirt and was on me, keeping herself low so as not to make us noticeable, working herself down onto my cock.

It was an overwhelming moment and just so hot on it’s own, that was before she breathed “I love fucking Daddy” 

We lasted a few minutes of frantic, hard fucking, before we came together and she fell on to me with a soft moan.

Kissed and lay there for a few minutes, before Cleo looked up at me – “Champagne?”

“What a good idea”

I smiled, that was my ‘Pretty Woman’ fantasy well and truly sorted.