When the Sugar Gods are Smiling….

It’s a balmy Sunday here in North Oxford and Mrs LSD has amazingly good news.

Apparently Candida, Cressida or whoever, anyway one of her uni friends, has invited her and our two little ones for a short notice 10 days in Greece next week, obvs they have their own villa…

It’s a few miles from where we are staying in a couple of weeks time – would I mind if she went?

Trying not to appear too enthusiastic, I say “Of course darling, if you’re happy travelling with the children”

It’ll be a trial, she says, but her (childless) sister, Amanda, is going too, so she can help (sort of!).

The Sugar Gods are indeed smiling – 10 days on my own in London.

I spend the rest of the morning gleefully processing this information, wondering how I can make the most of it.

On a trip to the shops I get a chance to check my sugarphone’s email (readers with a good memory will remember it never enters my house).

To my utter amazement I’ve got an email from Aurelie, my last long term SB that went back to France last year, she’s on a French government secondment and is in London next week – could we meet up?

Trying to contain my excitement, I reply. She’s staying in a rather fab 5*in Mayfair (austerity has yet to hit the French civil service), I suggest that we visit our former favourite hangout for cocktails and dinner.

Within a few minutes I get the sort of email that would excite any man with a pulse.

“Yes, cherie, I am so looking forward to seeing you again, I hope it will be just like before”

I have to stop the car and take a few moments to compose myself, before continuing home.

As I turn in to the drive, I spot my sister-in-law’s car.

As I go in through the front door, she’s in front of me, “Oh xxxx, you really are so good to let Debs come to Greece, we’ll have a breeze”

“Really Amanda, it’s no problem, no problem at all”….

 

It had to Happen – Part 2

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.

 

 

 

 

Tips for Sugardaddies No.1 – Ditch the Phone

Since many of my readers are prospective, or newbie, SD’s, I thought I’d take the time to pass on a few of the things I’ve learnt.

I’m going to assume that you’re married, or in a significant other relationship, so if you want to have a lengthy and satisfying career as a Sugardaddy, not getting caught is a priority.

By priority, I mean a totally important, never to be forgotten, imperative that must guide all that you do.

There is also the sensible reason that you don’t want to give your Sugarbabe every detail of your other life.

So, first off, the stating the glaringly obvious lesson – ditch the phone.

Do not, ever, use your personal phone to communicate with a Sugarbabe. Get a Pay as You Go, it’s untraceable, cheap (not that it should be a consideration if you can afford to be running a Sugarbabe) and its SIM card can be ditched in seconds.

I have two identical Galaxy S3’s, one is personal/work, the other purely for my SD life. My ‘Sugarphone’ lives hidden in my car and never enters my house.

If, like me, you have a tech savvie wife, don’t even think of trying to hide texts or emails on your phone from your Sugarbabe. Hidden email and text programs can be spotted in seconds by someone who knows what they’re looking for.

Similarly, don’t try and be cute (and tight) by using a program like Hushed, (it generates random, time-limited numbers for one-off use), crazy – a total giveaway.

By all means use them on your Sugarphone, but don’t think they’ll fool anyone who’s trying to find evidence of your off-piste activities on your regular phone.

Most of all, don’t do what you don’t do.

The simplest way to arouse suspicion is if you suddenly develop a full-on texting habit, don’t do it, ever.

A quiet, dull evening at home may move you to the urge to swap some dirty pillow text with your hot Sugarbabe, but my friend, I tell you this, it’s the quickest way you’ll attract suspicion.

Oh, one last thing, I really do need to repeat it, your Sugarphone NEVER enters your house, EVER.

 

It had to happen….

I have two lives, they very rarely meet.

One is as a 42 year old married man, living a seemingly conventional life in rural Oxfordshire.

In London, I am a Sugardaddy.

Living life as a married Sugardaddy requires a certain amount of forward planning and deviousness, qualities that would usually be found in one of Her Majesty’s finest secret agents, rather than the superficially conventional director of a business consultancy.

Today is the day they could collide.

My usually rural wife has decided that the designer shops of central London (and no doubt the wider economy!), could do with the sort of injection of cash that she can bring and has decided to join me, a complete surprise.

Despite my usual meticulous planning, this is a problem I didn’t factor and I am thinking hard on how to not break my date with my 28 year old French Sugarbabe, whilst convincing my wife that the “client dinner” I am having is too dull for her to come to….this is going to be interesting.