Good Call

After my first date with Cleo, I was doubtful about whether my decision not to try and sleep with her was right, would she think I didn’t fancy her?

Of course, all to do with the perennial dating question – do you fuck on a first date?

This morning I got a text, basically she thinks that not trying to get her into bed was just so sexy…she can’t wait until we do.

At first I was confused, then I got it…

Good sex can be rushed and urgent, a frantic coupling in the fervour of the moment following a first opportunity, but great sex is worked up to in a more nuanced and frankly, exciting, period of anticipation.

So, first decision was right and Cleo is looking forward to Thursday as much as me.

Good call.

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?



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.

Don’t be late…just a tip

OK, I know I’m not Richard Branson, just a partner in a moderately successful business, but my time is precious and I really don’t want to waste it waiting for a first date who turns up late.

Monday’s lunch date, Anna, has emailed to say, “I may be a little late as I’m seeing a friend first thing”….

Well, having been kept waiting by prospective Sugarbabes before, I can tell you that it’s something that leaves me cold.

Sure, you could get trapped on the Underground, witness an accident, or have some other calamity befall you, but please, please, don’t try and fit me in and arrive late.

It’s mainly a manners thing, but if you’re hoping to pitch yourself as a reliable, hassle-free Sugarbabe, you’re going to have to really work hard to win me round.

Just saying.