Cleo gets the Call

I’m writing this on a Friday afternoon, I’m at 35,000 ft on a squeakily efficient Lufthansa flight from Frankfurt back to Heathrow, it’s been a busy morning of meetings, made slightly more wearing as I was up fucking Cleo to 2am this morning….

This flight’s busy, fortunately I’m sitting in Business and I’m making the most of a large gin & tonic as I tap out this account of last night.

Cleo and I arranged to meet at her favourite restaurant, Roka in Charlotte Street. I was positively looking forward to seeing her, the last few days had been a bit difficult and I found myself daydreaming about my Sugarbabe more often than usual.

We arrived virtually at the same moment, she was stunning in a short tight green dress and a gorgeous pair of beige Kurt Geiger heels, I had a positive thrill as I followed her past a table of pissed-up guys, who clocked her immediately.

Seated in a quiet corner, I ordered champagne and we immediately connected, just as we always do.

Then came the news, she’d got the part she’d been auditioning for and would be based in the North for a 12 week stint, performing in her first proper role. I was delighted for her.

We were having one of those serious conversations where the overly-attentive waiting staff just become simply irritating.

She wanted to continue to see me, but could I also come and visit her, though she understood if that wasn’t possible. She then told me that it was understandable if I wanted to end our arrangement.

I thought about this and told her that I would try to make it work, but that it might be tricky.

I really was pleased for her, but knew that this was going to be difficult. So, what to do?

I decided the best play was to enjoy the moment, so I made sure we did.

After a dinner that was charged with a certain amount of foreboding, I decided that the best way to deal with this was to give Cleo something to remember us by.

We were staying nearby at the recently refurbished Berners Street Hotel, a recent addition to London’s booming catalogue of chic locations.

After a cocktail in the fabulous bar, we headed for bed.

I had decided that Cleo needed something a bit edgy that night and after telling her to strip, I commenced to tie her up into a wonderfully complex arrangement of rather tidy ropework.

There then followed 2 hours of the horniest fucking in my life. I alternated candle and ice play on her that had her coming so loudly I had no option but to gag her 😉

By the end I was feeling completely drained and it was a relief, in all senses, to fuck her mouth as she lay bound to the bed.

As I untied her and we arranged ourselves in each other’s arms, I had this feeling that this was the last date I’d have with Cleo.

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.

london-taxis

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”

 

 

Cleo in a New Light

So, the big day, or rather evening, arrived and the usually self-assured man-about-town that is me, was looking forward to the certainty of spending the night with Cleo with a certain amount of apprehension.

I’d remembered Cleo’s favourite dining haunts and that the current London craze for Peruvian meets Sushi is one of her fave options.

The day had dragged by, I kept checking my watch and time simply wasn’t going fast enough. One interminable meeting after another, when all I could think of was Cleo’s willowy figure and re-reading several times the email with her detailed sexual picklist.

We’d arranged to meet at the restaurant in Soho at 8. I arrived a little before, shortly afterwards by the ever-punctual Cleo, who looked stunning in a LBD…

“I was really worried I might be late, my waxing appointment took ages”, is just such a great opener, I was hooked.

As last week, the convo was easy and flirtatious, though I noticed that the subject of the parents and the increasingly tricky divorce, had a notable effect on her.

Apparently her father, who is now in his 60’s, had taken up with a much younger woman and over the last two years she had increasingly made it difficult for Cleo to see him.

She had been close to him it seemed and talking about ‘Daddy’ made her slightly moist eyed.

I decided to change the subject, as it was obviously a tricky one and so decided to plunge into the world of acting… My mother had been a useful actor in her younger years, before she met my broker father and ‘retired’. So, as a family, we still have quite a few friends in the business.

Then, I noticed Cleo visibly change, she wanted to know where we were staying, a chic boutique hotel in Soho as it happened and how she’d understood what I liked, in my reply to her picklist…

Now, I have generally found that virtually every Sugarbabe I’ve dated before has been more than a little submissive and so it would seem was Cleo, which I hadn’t quite expected.

The transformation was total, she moved round to the bench seat next to me, turned to look at me and discretely pulled my hand towards her thigh.

“Do you mind if I call you Daddy?”

At this point she moved my hand up her dress and pressed it against her pussy, she was totally waxed clean and wet, very wet.

At this point she had my total attention.

“I have done exactly what Daddy asked, I want Daddy to see that I’m a good girl”

I was floored. The slight, willowy beauty that I’d met 10 days ago had transformed into a seriously sexy being.

I immediately turned to a passing waiter and barked, “the bill please”….

Within 10 minutes we were walking out of the lift and across the hall to our achingly chic room, it was Soho, after all 😉

Her Little Black Dress was discarded in one swift move and there, totally naked, except for her heels, stood Cleo.

“Is Daddy going to punish me?”

“Yes daddy is” I said, “to ensure that you remember you are Daddy’s girl”

Fortunately having had just 2 small glasses of wine, copious fizzy water and a reviving espresso, I was virtually sober and knew exactly what I wanted to do.

In one move I turned Cleo round, pulled her arms back and tied them with my tie, before pushing her onto the bed.

“Stick your arse in the air, Daddy is cross with you”

She pulled her knees forward along the bed and her beautiful bottom thrust upwards.

With a careful aim, the flat of my palm impacted her arse with a thud, she squealed.

“Say ‘thank you Daddy’ “, I said sternly.

She obeyed and I carried on spanking her.

After 10 spanks, I was hard and unzipped my trousers, I grabbed her hair and pulled her head on to my cock, she took me in her mouth eagerly and within a few minutes I was coming.

I let her head down and moved round to her arse to check her pussy, she was soaking. I began playing with her hard and fast, my fingers slipping in and out, trying to expand within her sex.

In what seemed like no time, she began to come, grunting out a deep gutteral moan .

Then she turned to look at me, her face the picture of a totally sex-crazed, slightly scary, animal.

It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Ritual of Modern Sex? – Getting the Menu in Advance…

OK, here I am trying to get some work done in my, thankfully, air-conditioned office, as London gently steams, when my Sugarphone pings.

It’s Cleo.

Now, you will recall from earlier posts, that Cleo is my current Sugarbabe and we’re on for Thursday this week, when I say ‘On’, I mean bed ‘On’.

After my gallant behaviour on our first date, Cleo has made me aware, with no ambiguity, that she is expecting us to fuck.

Which, of course, suits me very fine, thank you very much.

So I read down the text and it’s fairly hot. A list of likes and dislikes, all on the edgy side of vanilla, veering into the wonderful world of kink.

Then, at the end, ‘I really want us to fuck as naturally as possible, so are you happy if we swap STI certificates?’

Errrr….you bet!

My last one is 6 months old, so I’m going to trot along to my favourite, discrete private health clinic in the City and 24 hrs later an email comes, telling you you’re in the clear (hopefully!).

Made me think though, I’m going to bed with Cleo, already having a clear idea of what she likes and what she doesn’t, not only that, but the awful condom fumbly moment will not raise its ugly head – this ordering your sex in advance could well catch on…