Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Latest Post on Let's Talk Sugar

My latest blog post on Let's Talk Sugar has been posted.  It offers some advice to SBs who are on the receiving end of a married Sugar Daddy's abrupt departure from her life (and the sugar bowl, in general).


Thursday, December 22, 2016

Update on My Marriage

My DW and I will be starting marriage counseling next month.  This, after a conversation we had the day after I saw my therapist.

First I told her that I could sympathize with her. She'd said last weekend that part of her pain was because she felt "embarrassed" at not being able to please me sexually.  In her words, "I can't even do the basics of a wife well." A few days later, after I'd had time to process that, I said, "I can definitely sympathize.  I was embarrassed too.  I couldn't get my wife to have sex with me."

Then, I plainly put it to her that, while we could spin around and around talking about my "infraction," the only way we were going to get past it was to speak to someone impartial, who is trained to listen and to offer guidance.  At first, I didn't think she took me seriously, but the next day she told me as we were preparing dinner that she'd made a call to a local counseling center and that we would schedule an appointment in January.  I gave her a kiss and thanked her.  "You were pretty clear with me that it was the only way to move ahead," she said, "so I took you at your word."

I had just gotten done telling my therapist that I didn't think she'd ever agree to therapy, having walked out of therapy five years ago before we started talking about sex, and having told me just a week or so ago that she didn't think there was anything useful to get out of therapy, either for herself or for us.  I guess she's more invested in the marriage than she realized, and doesn't want a divorce.

Meanwhile, I keep getting text messages from old sugar contacts.  Two days ago one sent me a nude pic and asked me to keep her warm.  I said I was off the market and she didn't respond.

I'm staying out of touch with everyone, including Mel.  I miss her a lot though, and I think of her often.  Maybe, when DW and I agree on terms for me having sex outside the marriage, I'll get to see her again, but I'm not holding out any hope.

Happy Everything!

Thursday, December 15, 2016

Say What You Want, Always

Nearly nine years ago, my DW told me she didn't care if she ever had sex again. Despite the fact that I was staring at the end of sex in my marriage, I didn't ask the right question. In hindsight, I instead chose a clever tactic that wound up forcing me to compartmentalize my life. When she suggested in the next breath that I find a girlfriend to have sex with, I again didn't ask the right question. Again I got too clever, and gave her a way to wriggle out of that suggestion, when in my heart I knew it was probably the right way to go.  I tread too lightly when I should have marched right into that issue and hashed it out with DW until it got resolved.

For more than three years after that I worked my secret life as a Sugar Daddy, growing more and more resentful that I had to sneak around in the shadows to satisfy my sexual needs, rather than confronting my DW about it. When the resentment grew too great and threatened other areas of our marriage to the point where divorce was a real option for me, I demanded that we enter counseling. My DW didn't register a single objection, clearly indicating that she agreed we needed help.

However, three months into counseling, just as we had resolved other issues around parenting and money, and were about to tackle the real reason I'd wanted counseling in the first place -- sexual incompatibility -- DW abruptly pulled out of counseling, saying that she wanted to be done. I did not insist we continue, but instead continued my fun with C/Hayden until we broke up just after a milestone birthday.  That birthday, coupled with a new job I hated and C/Hayden's departure from my life, left me feeling despondent and helpless. I had no one to talk to about it; Wanda was not helpful, and I had no trusted male friendships who could offer perspective.

Six months later, I found a circle of men I could trust to support me through that difficult time, but I wasn't ready to share the full story of why I was depressed. Some of them knew DW closely, and I didn't feel safe sharing that I was a Sugar Daddy with men who would later socialize with the two of us.

As I did work on myself, my resentment towards DW was dissipating, but the anxiety about my extramarital activity began to wear on me. I careened back and forth between anger and despair and bargaining, anything to try to bring DW to a place where she had the courage and the openness to deal with the need to redefine our marriage such that I could continue my activities out in the open. That time never arrived.

Nearly two years ago, DW and I had sex for what might be the last time, interrupted by her feeling real pain from my being inside her.  It was around that time that I realized that if I didn't make peace with this situation and accept DW as she was, I'd be out the door, and I didn't want that. Six months later, she told me that she didn't want to have sex anymore, and she pretty much shut the door on talking about it.  That was the end of our sex life, as I saw it. It gave me the clarity to accept it as it was, and to feel free to pursue my sugar activities without a shred of guilt.

In hindsight, I started to get less careful about hiding my activities, and caring less about what would happen if DW found out. I would come home from a date with the smell of sex still on me, with my SB's pussy on my breath, or her perfume on my clothes.  I had more public dates for lunch, in neighborhoods where I knew more people. And I didn't bother to hide all my financial transactions, instead basically daring DW to open my personal mail.

We all know how that turned out.

In four days it will be one month since she found me out. The first week was the hardest, but things have settled down to a degree, as we have returned to familiar routines of child-rearing and house-keeping.  But some of the discussions we've had have been intense, and have taken us in a new direction.  When I said to her, "We're sexually incompatible, and it's time for us to redefine what it means to be married to each other," there was no way to take that back. She now knows that I'm aiming to change the terms. Sex will never again be the topic that doesn't get discussed because it's just too uncomfortable, too scary.

In a long-term, committed relationship, it's too important to leave things unsaid. If you want something from your sweetheart, say what it is. Don't ever not say what it is. Avoiding the topic creates tension and resentment, erodes trust, and ultimately poisons the relationship.

There are ways to say what you want without being hurtful, but if your sweetheart feels hurt by what you're bringing up in a respectful and honest way, it's not as important as your saying what it is you want.  Hurt feelings can heal; broken trust can too, but it's much, much harder. So opt for hurt feelings over broken trust.

As I see it, DW has three choices: one, she can do the work on herself necessary to help her locate her sexual center, so that she can connect with me on a deeper level that is more fun and more romantic; and two, she can opt not to do self-reflection, and step aside so that I can attend to my needs as I see fit, without her interference.  We can combine the two as well.  The third choice is to decide not to deal with the issue, in which case I'll be forced to leave. I have always said I didn't marry DW for the sex, and that our nonexistent sex life is not grounds for divorce.  If I decide to leave the marriage, it'll be because I have a wife who is not committed to doing the work necessary to keep the relationship alive and functional. While I don't think DW wants that -- I don't either -- it has to be on the table so that she understands that we can never go back to the way things were.  Everything out in the open, no regrets, and no resentments.

Thursday, December 8, 2016

Apply This Rule to Sugar Dating

I consider myself pretty good at recognizing a quality potential SB, but too often I've settled for less than what I wanted because nothing else better came along.

Today I read Fuck Yes or No, a great article by Mark Manson, a self-styled "life enthusiast" and thinker.  He makes a convincing case for applying the rule of "Fuck Yes or No" when looking for people in your life. The concept is simple: why would you want to spend time with anyone who wasn't totally excited to be with you, and why would anyone spend time with you if you're not totally excited to be with him/her? If you encounter someone who is interested in you, and you're not thinking "Fuck yes I want to be with that person!" then move on. Conversely, if that person isn't acting like "Fuck yes, I want to be with" you, then move on.

In the Sugar world, things aren't that complicated.  You see a profile of someone you like, you send a message, and hope for a return message.  If you don't get a message for a few days, that person isn't feeling "Fuck yes" for you, so it's a No and you move to the next one. If, however, you get an enthusiastic message and a request to meet, then that's a green light. But don't just agree to meet. Assess your own feelings first; are you feeling that enthusiasm, that "Fuck yes!" excitement? If so, proceed!  If not, write back and say, "Thanks, but I've already met someone."

I think it's important to keep checking in on yourself and your SB or SD to make sure that you're both still feeling "Fuck yes!" There is one complication: the money.  As I've written before on another blog, this shit doesn't work without the money. But once the money greases the wheels, you still need to apply the rule of "Fuck Yes or No" when determining whether or not to remain in the arrangement.

Of the significant arrangements I've had over the past eight-plus years -- CC, C/Hayden, Jade, Leah, Audrey, Staci, Aussie, and Mel -- I can say that there was only one for whom I did not feel "Fuck yes!" and that was CC, my first.  I felt total enthusiasm for the others -- although I held back with C/Hayden because I didn't think she was my type, physically.  Once we slept together, though, I was all in with her for three years.  Mel did kind of drop into my lap, but after that first date I was hooked on her (still am, miss her a lot).

I think the reason why, out of the 52 women I've had sex with since becoming a Sugar Daddy, I've only had significant stretches with eight of them, is because I've settled for less than a "Fuck Yes" when deciding whether or not to pursue them, or have been OK with their being less than "Fuck Yes" with me. Two who immediately come to mind are Mouse and Fleur. When I had lunch with Mouse in Spring 2015, I was less than enthusiastic and so was she. But we still fucked because she wanted her allowance and I wanted to get laid. It was a miserable time.  With Fleur, I immediately knew she wasn't right for me but I went ahead with it anyway, with awful results.

After reading this article, I'm more determined than ever to do this right.

When I emerge from the doghouse in which I currently reside (noting that my actual dog lives in utter bliss right alongside my DW), my dating rules for Sugar will change.

Sunday, December 4, 2016

A Missed Porn Star Opportunity

I fucked a porn star, who I called Kyra, a little less than six years ago.  Read about my encounter with her here.  I thoroughly enjoyed the one time I was with her, and I even thought about seeing her again once I'd discovered that she had become an escort. But that never happened.

Also, in the past few months, while out searching for threesome partners for Mel and me, I found Mo on the Sugar Daddy website. Unlike Kyra, Mo is a very well-known porn star, and used her porn star name as her profile name. She had asked for more allowance than I usually agree to, but I figured that the sex would be phenomenal and worth the additional investment. Watching her work, it's clear that she is very talented. The girl did pretty much anything under the sun, and I thought it might be a great addition to Mel and me.  Sadly, my DW found out about my activities before I could make any headway in that area. I sent Mo a text a week or so ago letting her know and she said a quick "I'm so sorry" before disappearing.  (A quick update: I'm still in the house, and in the bed, still making progress on her list of things I need to do to earn her trust -- a list that will grow over the next several months.)

Now, this morning, I was watching porn while the rest of the family was out doing stuff.  Please don't judge me: now that I won't be getting laid for quite some time, porn has become my best friend. If my cock doesn't fall off first, I'll be enjoying porn for at least a little while. I came across a scene that piqued my interest and started watching. Who do I see on the screen but Alena, a potential I'd met for lunch earlier this year, but who I ultimately rejected, when I was just starting out with Aussie. I recognized both her cute face, her crooked teeth, and the tattoos on both her left arm and her neck. Needless to say, I got off hard watching her perform.  A quick search later revealed that Alena has quite a body of work, with some very hardcore, very rough sex.  Being spat on, choked, throat-fucked, and some serious anal pounding. I'm sort of glad I didn't see any of that before, but part of me wishes she'd let me know who she really was and tried to hook up.

Just something I thought I'd share with y'all.

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

Update on a Retired Sugar Daddy

I'm still married, still in the house, and DW and I are still talking. Ten days ago, my run of eight-plus years as a Sugar Daddy came to an abrupt end when DW unexpectedly opened my mail and saw hotel charges on a credit card bill. The conflict that has ensued has consumed nearly all my energy; we have still been able to work, still earn a living and pay the bills, still able to spend time with family and friends.  For the first week, however, DW's fangs and claws would come out at night, after the kids were asleep, and she'd wake me up to talk. "If I'm up, you need to be up," she said.

The questions kept coming and coming: "Were you wearing your wedding ring when you were with her?" ("I wore it when we first met, but I would take it off when we were together.") "Where is your condom supply?" ("She kept them for me.") "How much time did you spend each day talking to her or texting her?" That last question prompted her to demand that I add up all the time I believe I'd spent on my time with Mel, and devote that much time to her and the kids, uninterrupted and without my phone. "No problem," I replied.

She said she still cries every day, but not just about what I did. She cries because she says she feels like she failed as a wife because she couldn't give me the sex I wanted or needed. I told her I understood how she felt, because at times I felt I failed as a husband because I wasn't earning enough to support the family such that she wouldn't have to work (she had more in common with some Sugar Babies than she even knew). She wants to talk to her friends, and I encourage her to do that, but she resists, saying, "They'll hate you and I don't want that." I told her that they could hate me if they chose, but I believed that if we worked things out they'd come back around.

On the night before Thanksgiving, before leaving to pick up my kid from athletic practice, DW and I stood in the kitchen going through these feelings and demands and actions again. I have resigned myself to the likelihood that DW will spin this around and around in her head for some time to come ("I keep envisioning things that you've done with her"), and so I knew I just had to stand there and take it in, and offer my opinions if she asks me for them.

At one point, however, I sensed an opportunity to bring to her something that had been on my mind for years. "Sweetie, we're going to get through this, and I'm going to regain your trust; of that I'm certain. We'll have a loving, peaceful, and close family for years and years. But even after that, there will still be an 800-pound gorilla in the room that we need to address. And I'm not sure you're ready to hear it."

"What's that?" she asked.

I took a slow breath in and out. "The fact that we're sexually incompatible." She stopped looking at me and looked at the floor, which meant for me that I'd hit on something that had been on her mind as well. I continued: "We haven't been compatible in bed for years. All the things about sex that you love -- the closeness, the touching, the kissing, the emotional bonding -- I love all that too, but it's not enough for me, at least not now while my body still works. And all the things I love about sex -- which, to tell you the truth, is pretty much anything a man and woman can do together -- is too much for you.  You can come around and find your desire again, but I'm not going to be satisfied anymore with what we had been doing before it all got shut down."  She nodded slowly and looked back up at me.

"So what do we do?" she asked.

"First we get through this. There is time to discuss everything else later.  But we're going to have to resolve the issue at some point if we're going to survive."

"Are you saying that you'll want a divorce if we can't resolve it?"

"No," I said, "because I don't think failure is an option for me. We have to resolve it. But this is going to be really hard. We're going to have to redefine what it means to be married to each other."

I let that hang there as I kissed her and held her before I left the house.  We haven't revisited that discussion, but it's never going to go away now. Despite the fact that I was scared, and sad for her having to deal with her pain and anger, I was exhilarated that, finally, I'd been able to tell DW exactly what had been on my mind for years. I was someday going to have the open marriage I've wanted for so long. I certainly hope that the marriage lasts forever, but regardless, it will be a marriage that will honor my terms, how I define myself as a man.

Last week's Thanksgiving festivities were particularly stressful on her. Not only were we all observing the holiday for the first time without her father, but she said she'd have to put on a brave face less than a week after her life came tumbling down on her.  Her mother, her sibling, her relatives, my relatives, our closest friends -- all would be there and know nothing of what had happened. Further, one of my closest friends, who had nowhere to go this year, was there, and he knew. DW told me later that she couldn't look him in the eye without feeling shame. I do my best to reassure her that no one would judge her harshly in any way, I mostly just say "I understand" and "I'm sorry."

The list of demands has been slowly growing.  Already I've closed the credit card and paid off the balance.  Already I've ended things with Mel.  Already I've returned the money I spent on hotels and ancillary things to the family. Already I've gotten tested (all results so far have been negative, as expected). Already I've drained my personal bank account.  Already I've turned over all relevant online passwords.  Still to do: write the checks to the kids' college funds for the money I spent, close my checking account, go to a ritual bath and do a spiritual cleanse before we can be intimate again, add up the time spent on activity with Mel.  There are a few more things that are too personal to list here.

I've started seeing a therapist (of my own volition since DW refuses to go to counseling). This mystifies her because she doesn't know why I'm doing it.  Last night I explained, after my first session, that I wanted to sort out feelings for myself and get some validation for my own feelings about it from someone who can offer perspective in a way that she couldn't. I offered again to go to counseling with her or to pay for individual therapy for her, but she has so far refused.  I'm not giving up there.  I don't foresee my therapy going longer than three or four sessions, but the money I'm spending will be added to the total I've already paid back.

What she also heard me say was that I was firmly committed to the marriage.  That got a weary chuckle. "I know how that sounds right now," I said, "but I'm not sure it helps for you to laugh it off." The truth is, I said, that I had grounds to leave the marriage years ago. There have been lots of men who have walked over less.  My friend Luke stuck it out, I said, only to have his wife (DW's closest friend) cheat on him. I even could have refused to end things with this girl, and yet I did it without hesitation because she doesn't really mean anything to me. "It's you I want. It's you I've always wanted. You're wary of what I've said, and that's fine.  Look at some of the other things I've done. Those should count for something."  She can be mad all she wants, she can withhold trust if that works for her, but she needs the facts, and I'm giving them to her.

Reflecting back on the last week, I have to say that I'm feeling more and more confident each day that we'll survive this. Of key importance, beyond all the tasky stuff I have to do, will be my support for her emotional health. I will continue to suggest that she sees a therapist or that we go to counseling together.  I have already proposed, and she has accepted, that we will go on a date every week.  It's important that she find those parts of me she fell in love with -- they've always been there, after all. More than all of this, however, will be my continuing to listen to her and to honor her.  I'm a problem solver, and I want more than anything to solve this problem. But I can't. Only time will heal this wound, so I stick to what I can control: my territory, maintained impeccably; my listening without judgment; my caring; my cooperation without compromising who I am; my making sure she knows my feelings, without emotion; and my continued efforts to think up new ways to make her happy.

I'll continue to post more as time permits and/or as things develop.  Sorry there aren't going to be any hot sex stories for awhile.

Monday, November 21, 2016

The Jig Is Up

She never opens my mail.  Never.

The credit card bill lay on the table, a corner of the statement poking out from the top of the torn envelope. DW had opened it before I had gotten it. Oh fuck.

"Why did you open my mail?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said.  "Why are there hotel charges on your credit card bill?"

My face felt hot. I've finally been caught. I walked past her, trying to busy myself with stuff to do with the kids.  It was a busy day. But not too busy, apparently.

She followed me into my office. "Is there something you want to confess to me?" she asked quietly, her lovely, bright eyes widening and beginning to moisten.

I looked at her, knowing I could no longer hide. How much should I reveal? If I tell her everything, I'll be packing my bags in the next hour. Just then one of our kids walked by, giving me an out. "Can we not talk about this now?" I rasped out through my dry throat. "We will talk later," I added, "I promise." From DW, I heard the first of what so far has seemed like a hundred utterances of "Pfft."

We had a social event scheduled for later that day with the kids, among family friends we've known for years, some in our respective inner circles.  My friend Luke would be there, as would his ex-wife, who has become one of DW's closes confidantes. Luke divorced her because she'd cheated on him. Would DW do the same now?

As we washed up and dressed before the event, we found ourselves alone and in the bathroom.  I'd closed our bedroom door, which is a signal to the kids not to enter without knocking. I knew this was where I'd bear the full brunt of DW's anger.

Without revealing the entire conversation, I confessed to sleeping with Mel six times, nothing more. DW wanted to know things about this girl, and I revealed as much as I could tell her. No, I said, there were no feelings.  I liked her and she liked me, but that's as far as it went. "There was no relationship. They were only physical encounters. It was No Strings Attached," I said. "Pfft," came her response.

"You've most likely lost your wife and your children today," she said, "How do you like those strings? Was it worth it?"

I had no responses for much of what she said except, "I deserve that." I should be out of the house, surfing couches or staying in a hotel until she was no longer furious, or at best sleeping on the couch, but the kids would not understand.  She could not tell her family, even though she wanted to cancel Thanksgiving at our house.  I sat there and took it all, lamely saying, "I understand."  If I said anything that came from my heart, she responded with another "Pfft."  Mostly, however, I played extremely gentle defense while I admitted to everything. She did give me the opening, after all. I reminded her of her words nearly nine years ago, which, after she lamely tried to tell me was a joke, she remembered and copped to.  Still she said, "Should have thought of that before you decided to break your marriage vow six times."  I had no response to that, but I said, "This is something I've been wanting to talk to you about for years. I've been afraid to because I've found you unapproachable when sex comes up." Of course, there were other ways for me to deal with my feelings of abandonment and physical alienation. I could have swallowed hard and insisted we discuss it. I could have insisted that we continue counseling when she decided to leave just as we were discussing our sexual issues. I could have owned my feelings about it and made sure she understood them while I laid out the facts of her behavior over the past eight years, and demanded a solution that we could both live with. But I was unsure of how she'd take any of it. It was clear that DW was either afraid, or simply unwilling, to talk about sex.  Even with her now suggesting that she could have been open to discussing solutions, I doubted that the outcome would have been any different.

Underneath the anger she was venting at me, DW felt betrayed and told me she felt she could no longer trust me. "I'm in the same place," I said, adding, "but we've got so many years as a family, as part of this community, and as a couple. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."  "Pfft," she said. It seemed like she was in no place to hear that.  "But I don't want to end our marriage," she said, agreeing with me that the long-term investment we've made was too important to discard.  I felt some relief, though the anger kept coming at me like a wind-blown rainstorm.

"I want you to end it with this girl, right now," she said.

"Of course. No problem."

"I want to see the text you send her before you send it.  I want to see all of your credit card bills for the last three months. I want a full accounting of every dollar you've spent on this girl, and you will give that money to the kids for their college funds.  I want passwords to all of your bills.  And you will get tested right away. Until you do I see you as unclean."

These were the easy things. The credit card bills had some restaurant charges which I could explain, some parking charges from the hotels, but nothing more. I did not confess to the financial part of the arrangement, so for now at least my bank account, with its biweekly cash withdrawals, was safe for me to close.

"No problem," I said.

We survived the social event, even managing to dance together once. But I spent much of the night huddled with some men, drinking whiskey, talking politics and our kids, anything to avoid the hard stares, and the pain those stares conveyed to me.

Later that night, while alone in the bathroom I deleted the entire text histories I had with every woman I'd kept -- and there were more than a few.  I deleted pictures on my phone of Staci and I having sex.  I deleted my entire private email inbox.  And I deleted all the contacts I'd saved over the years and months, except for Mel.  After washing up I managed to climb into bed with DW, where we talked some more. I wrote the goodbye text for Mel at midnight: "Hi there, sorry for the late note. I must immediately end our brief time together. Please do not respond, as I will not answer you. Take care." I showed it to DW as she had requested, and asked if she wanted me to change anything. She wanted me to remove "brief."  "Three months is not brief to me.  One time is brief.  Take it out."  she also wanted me to tell Mel what an awful person she was for sleeping with a married man, but I convinced DW that we were better off not dragging Mel into our drama. I pressed send.

We were both exhausted.  We finally collapsed at around 1:30 a.m., and I maybe slept for an hour, but was up the rest of the night till dawn, unable to find a comfortable spot.

The next morning we had to attend, of all things, a religious retreat with one of the kids.  There would be more friends and community members there.  After getting up early to gas up the car and buy some food for our outing, I returned home and went into the office to attend to financial matters, unrelated to our impending divorce.  I heard DW sniffing and quietly sobbing in the kitchen while she packed up our lunches. I finished what I was working on -- I truly wanted to leave it be, but it needed to be done -- and then walked into the kitchen, where she met my eyes with tears rolling down her cheeks.  Her beautiful face, tear-soaked and crestfallen. My heart was breaking too.

She walked into our bedroom with me behind her, closing the door so that our still-sleeping children would not disturb us.  She climbed into the bed, pulling the covers up over her face, releasing the sobs that she'd been holding back.  I sat on the bed next to her and risked a kiss to her exposed forehead before bursting into tears myself.  In those ten or fifteen minutes, through sobbing and running noses, we talked, and connected in a way that we hadn't for years. There was no moment of major clarity for either of us, but she listened, and I listened. She would warn me not to put any of this on her.

"I take full responsibility for what I've done," I said.  "I did a stupid thing."

"Six stupid things."

"One stupid thing, six times," I insisted. I said, "I'm being very careful with my words here, on purpose. I don't blame you at all for what I did, but where we are now in this marriage didn't happen because of this thing I did. This is a symptom of the lack of trust between us. I know you don't trust me now, but believe me when I tell you that I have struggled with trust for years."  Reminding her again of the things she has said to me over the years, I drew a sketch of my mindset, which created the stories that all seemed true to me: particularly, that she was not open to talking about sex in any way. She could not deny it, and quietly admitted it. We reassured each other, again, that neither of us wanted to end the marriage, and that we truly loved each other deeply.

Later, at the retreat, we were engaged in an exercise that had us answering questions with people were getting to know.  I should not have been in the same group as DW because I found myself sitting across from her when the question was asked, "If you could be any kind of animal you wanted, what would you be and why?" I struggled with that answer before she motioned me close and whispered in my ear, "I know what animal you are.  A cheetah."

I sat back, simultaneously amazed that she would say something like that, and crushed that she did. She saw in my face that she'd scored a massive direct hit, and she reached out her hand to apologize, tears welling up in her eyes. I could not bring myself to accept, so I just kept looking at her. Finally I leaned in and said, "I deserved that, but that fucking hurt a lot."  "It was said in anger and it just came out, I'm so sorry," she replied.  Still I felt no desire to absolve her guilt.  After about 10 minutes talking to other people, we were led outside to go on a hike.  She caught up to me, practically bawling, and said, "I'm so sorry, please forgive me." Without a word, I gave her my arm and she took it.  She was still crying, and while my heart felt the same pain, I kept myself calm. "You gotta pull it together, babe," I said, "[the kid] will see you and wonder what's up."

After the hike we sat as a group and said some prayers and sang some songs before the clergy asked each family to find a secluded spot and deliver some blessings to each other.  I pulled my kid very close and said, "I bless you with a long, happy, and healthy life, with success, and family and friends who all love you and are loved by you." I kissed my kid about a hundred times, eliciting giggles and "Daaaad!" DW echoed my words, and started crying again, which got my kid to ask what was up. "I'm just having an emotional day, sweetie," she said, "some days are just like that."

We then had a quiet lunch together, talking politics and the exercises we were engaged in with another couple of parents.  The rest of the afternoon was filled with wonderful lessons, and by the end I was feeling somewhat like we were returning to being a normal family.

I was wrong.

This morning, after I'd stayed up late and printed out and itemized the credit card expenses as she had requested, DW sat beside me on the bed at about 6:15, and said, "I need you to get up." "I'm not driving carpool today," I replied.  "No," she said, "I want you to get up, take your shower, get dressed, and go to work.  I can't have you in the house today." Her anger comes at me in waves.  I stood my ground a bit and said that leaving early would trigger the kids into thinking that something was really wrong. "They've already seen a lot of closed doors," I said, adding, "they sense something's up already.  Have you noticed their behavior? They haven't been at each other's throats at all. They're scared shitless.  It's better that our routines look normal."  She relented, and then we discussed the credit card charges.  She asked about a couple of things but seemed settled that she had a complete accounting.

As I left for work, I kissed each of the kids, told them to mind their mom, and went over the DW.  I told her again that I loved her and put my arms around her, kissing her cheek.  "Go make money for your family," she said.  Following me to the front door, she said, "Hey." I turned around and saw her point to her lips and motioned for me to kiss her. The tears came again for both of us; luckily the kids were too wrapped in their electronics to notice.  Maybe this was part of the "normal" routine that we had agreed on, but I was nevertheless grateful that I got to kiss my beautiful wife for the first time in two days.  She gave me the sign for I love you as I backed out of the driveway.

Today I've gotten fully tested -- HIV negative, with all the others in about a week -- and will close my credit cards after paying them off.  I get paid in four days, so I'll close the checking account after that.

I've maintained great secrecy for the past eight years.  Leaving this credit card bill around, and not going electronic with the billing, was so fucking stupid.  But, as a friend told me this morning, it was my way of saying that I wanted to get caught.  If you've read this blog from the beginning, I have never shied away from both the desire to be out in the open with my activity and my willingness to accept responsibility and consequences if I got caught.  I've been wanting a confrontation with DW for years; to have, at long last, that mature and unflinchingly honest discussion about our sexual incompatibility issues and what to do about them. I don't know if DW would ever accept arrangement-style relationships, but I may have to educate her about that stuff in the future.

For now, my job is to complete, with full cooperation, the tasks she puts before me; to let her know what I'm feeling; to listen; to keep my stuff clean; to care deeply about her; and to do whatever original things I can think of to make her happy.  I'll need to somehow absorb her anger and try to channel it into something more positive. And I'll need to urge her, however possible, to join me again in counseling, which she is thus far refusing.

Despite having tons of work to do, and sales calls to make, I have barely held it together today.  A few of my closest friends got the word about what happened via a group text about 7 a.m. today, and my phone has been ringing off the hook since.  I'm grateful for the chance to talk it out.  They'll be my lifeline for the next few months as this gets sorted out.

It goes without saying that my days secretive of extra-marital sex are over.  If I ever again have sex with a woman other than my DW -- and today that looks doubtful -- it'll be out in the open.  I had a very good eight-year run.  I would have liked to exit this journey on my terms, but maybe I did and just don't see it right now.

I don't know when, or even if, I'll write another post to this blog.  I'm sure you'll all want to know the resolution of this matter, so I'll probably be back someday.

Friday, November 18, 2016

Short Update on Who's In and Who's Out

Who's In

Mo, the young porn star who is trying out sugar, had until this week been working in Europe. I follow her on Twitter, and she had been posting pics and short video clips of her work. The producers there kept her quite busy and I have to say she is a fucking pro at what she does because she looked like she loved every second of the brutal sex she was having. Maybe she's a total freak and she did enjoy it!

Anyway, she arrived back home yesterday, and this morning she texted me to re-connect. I was so flattered! I'd basically walked away from the situation, since she required more financial assistance than anyone else and since I was pretty happy already with Mel (still am!). But as I've written many times before, when a girl reaches out to me on her own I find that really attractive and it makes me want to see her more.  She actually wanted to see me today, but I was busy.  So we're going to re-connect again after Thanksgiving and see what's up.

Chic keeps trying. We have not been able to make time to be together, and I wonder if it'll ever happen. I could take it or leave it with her, but her body is so tight that I truly don't think I'd ever turn her down.

Harmony is still hanging in there, but I'm not rushing.

Rose and CJ and I will have a threesome sometime next month.

Of course, Mel is my #1.

Who's Out

Jewel -- during a conversation the other day during which we were trying to make plans to get together, I started flirting with her and suggesting that she probably got plenty of dick and didn't really need me.  "I rarely have sex," she wrote, adding, "boys my age suck in bed." She said she liked lots of different kinds of guys, but preferred older men and was interviewing a few. "Who's the best candidate?" I asked.  "Trump," she answered, jokingly. I knew she was joking, but even the suggestion, the implication, that she might have voted for that asshole left me cold. "Tell me you're kidding, babe," I wrote.  "LOL, totally kidding."  "Good," I replied, "I just can't bring myself to be with anyone who voted for him. Total deal breaker."  I then suggested a place and time to meet for lunch, but she never responded. I guess she did vote for him. 

I'm thinking of updating my sugar daddy profile to be specific that I am not interested in anyone who voted for Trump. Providing sugar for someone like that actually turns my stomach.

Wednesday, November 16, 2016

The Year-End Slowdown

Whether it's the fact that the sun sets at 5 pm out here on the left coast, or that the holidays tend to interfere with scheduling, my sugar life tends to slow down around this time of year.  In 2012 I was still reeling from the end of my time with C/Hayden, in 2013 I was dealing with an increasingly frustrating relationship with Jade, in 2014 I was going full tilt with Audrey but not blogging all that much, and last year I was dealing with one failed start after another.

This year things aren't all that different.  I'm busy at work, though making slightly less than I'd like. I've got a great thing going with Mel, but have sought to detour with a number of different girls.  The fiasco with the escort MJ seems really to have left me feeling disheartened.

At this point, however, I've decided to let the rest of them go.  I'd made a lunch date with Shelly last week after breaking two previous dates, only to have to cancel again because I'd stupidly scheduled the date on a national holiday when my company was closed and the kids out of school -- family time!  Her response was to demand that any future date include a full allowance up front, which I declined without a second thought. I also told Chloe that I was taking the rest of this year off (which isn't a total lie, since I will be off in December) and didn't want to hold her up. Rose and CJ are on the back-burner, and I think I might meet them before the end of this year, but I'm not in a hurry. Harmony and I were supposed to meet for sex today, but my schedule got in the way.  I am less than thrilled about playing with her anyway.  Jewel and I lost contact with each other.  Chic and I really want to fuck each other, but she can't free up her schedule to save her life, so I'm like meh.

That leaves me with sweet, sexy Mel, and I'm actually happy with her.  We are meeting early next week, and then once more before I go on December sabbatical.  I told her I might try to sneak in once more before Christmas, but not to count on it.  She'll get some seriously nice gifts from me to tide her over until January too.

Not much else to report.  There'll be another post after my next date with Mel.  It will be my seventh time with her.  Interestingly enough, I haven't been with a woman this many times since Audrey, nearly two years ago.  Staci and I only had five dates, Sam only five, Aussie only six. A sign of stabilizing?  I hope so.

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

Sugar Date with Mel #6: More Rim Jobs, Election Talk, and the Need for Different Lube

Mel and I had our sixth intimate date yesterday.  As usual, in our historic hotel (which now charges for parking when it never did before, so I'm considering moving somewhere else), as Standard Time ended our liaison in the dark.

Arriving in a short black casual dress with black ankle boots and curly hair that she didn't bother to straighten, I had Mel naked in record time. We missed each other, and definitely showed it in the way we kissed and held each other the entire time we were together.

The standout experience for me was in how adept Mel was in rimming.  I've always been into ass play, as my experiences with Space Cadet and Lola will attest.  Mel hasn't yet fingered me, but her talents with her tongue are unbelievable. It felt so good; I had my legs in the air, offering her as much access as I've ever given anyone.  I told her I liked to be fingered but she demurred, showing me her long nails.  I didn't mind really, but I let her promise me that she would do it next time. I guarantee you it will send me into orbit when she does.

I offered to return the favor, but she apparently isn't as into it as I am, so I'll keep trying to convince her.  Being inside her feels simultaneously familiar and unique, because each time we fuck we do something to change things up.  This time, when she was riding me, she rocked her hips back and forth, causing a great deal of rubbing on her clit.  I helped her along by holding her butt in both hands.  I think the friction  was a little much for her because we had to stop midway through as her pussy was getting sore.  She wondered if perhaps the meds she was temporarily taking was affecting how wet she was getting.  I didn't really need to spend time thinking about that, but I supposed it was possible.  I got out my lube, Astroglide, which has has worked perfectly with nearly everyone with whom I've used it.  She took a little and rubbed it on her pussy and I entered her from behind, but that lasted about two seconds before she said, "Ow, this stings a lot!"  She had to wash the lube off in the bathroom to relieve the discomfort.  I resolved then and there to buy some coconut oil to use next time we need it.

Once Mel came back, she had a plan: "I'm gonna suck you some more and get a lot of spit on you, then we'll try again." Who was I to argue, right?  That worked really well.  I resumed fucking her from behind, and it took all of two minutes before I was ready to cum. I pulled out and unloaded all over her butt and back and hair.  It went everywhere!

Our post-coital conversation revolved around the presidential election. Both of us on the same page, thankfully. Neither of us could imagine what our country would be like under the fascist dictatorship that Trump looked all too willing to create.  We also talked about seeing Rose again, but I'm holding off with that until I get to fuck Rose and CJ together, which will be later this month.  Finally, we planned our next two dates and agreed that we'd be apart for all of December until after New Years Day.

By 5:15 the sun had gone down, and Mel dressed and said goodbye as I stepped into the shower.  I'm so glad she's in my life.  Already can't wait to see her again.

Thursday, November 3, 2016

Harmony and Dissonance

In music, "Harmony" is when two or more notes played together produce a pleasing effect.  In life, harmony happens when suitable elements converge and produce peace, friendship, and love.

By contrast, "dissonance" is when the notes played together produce an unpleasant effect.  In life, dissonance happens when elements that come together cause tension, conflict, and instability.

When you hear music that contains dissonant notes, your brain instinctively wants to hear it resolve into something more pleasing to your ears.  When you encounter dissonance in life -- say, Donald Trump and the presidency -- you want it resolved as soon as possible (i.e., he gets soundly defeated) so that it's replaced with harmony.

As you have been reading, I have been chatting for the last few weeks with a young Asian girl who calls herself Harmony.  At first, I was definitely intrigued enough to continue, but knowing my history with Asians I was hesitant.  She's gone in and out of contention, helped by her great personality and keen intellect.  However, she let me know the other day that she struggled with achieving orgasm, so I was ready to abandon the chase, as I had with Phoebe.

Rather than dismiss her wholesale with a text message, however, I thought that it would be better if I could have a conversation with her about it.  I sent her a text that said we needed to have a conversation about sexuality at some point and I voiced my concerns.  We tried to connect by phone, but were unsuccessful.  So I decided that, after all, I would invite her to lunch, see her face to face, and have the discussion.

We met yesterday afternoon in my neighborhood, which actually necessitated my having to drop more than I would have liked for Uber rides.  There were free public lots within 100 feet of the restaurant.  I kicked myself for being overly spendthrifty.  At first I wasn't sure it was worth it, because she showed up in clothes that definitely would not be considered business-like. I kicked myself for not asking her to dress down.  She wore black boots, a short black skirt, and a bright pink top that was a little daring in how low-cut it was.  She was taller than I thought she'd be, and a little heavier in person than what I'd seen in her pictures, but she had a great smile, bright eyes, and cute, small hands. (Note: I look at everything.)

We got seated immediately, but were in such a loud and crowded room I decided that talk about sexuality was not appropriate.  We talked a lot about her upbringing, her work as a dancer and how she arrived at that, what she wants to do with her life, where in the world we've traveled, stuff like that.  By lunch's end I walked her down the street to my office and ordered her another car to take her home. I gave her a hug and headed upstairs to my office.  I knew that probably nothing would come of our lunch, but inside I thought that a text to dismiss her would be rude, and after Crystal, Chic, and even Aussie, I feel it's probably better to let someone go either over the phone or in person.

After lunch I texted her to thank her and then said we could continue the sexual conversation later.  I then dropped the subject because Game 7 of the World Series was coming on and I didn't want to miss a single pitch.

This morning, as I was starting my workday, I decided to send out the first volley by email rather than over the phone, partly to organize my thoughts and partly to give her time to digest them.

Here's the heart of what I wrote, after giving her some background on who I was, which I've covered in this blog numerous times:
When you told me the other day that you struggle with reaching orgasm, I got concerned that we wouldn't be a match. My most successful arrangements over the years have always been with women who have intimate knowledge of what gets them off, and who have as open a mind about exploration and experimentation as I do.  I love women who can communicate to me what they want me to do to them to pleasure them, and I get as excited about getting her off the way a computer geek writes code: hyper-focused and to the exclusion of nearly everything else....When someone says they have trouble achieving orgasm, that to me sounds sad; I honestly don't think a person can achieve any sort of fulfillment without having an intimate relationship with one's body.
That being said, I'm still open to an arrangement with you because I find you attractive, both physically and intellectually. Before I say yes to that, however, I want to know more about your sexuality and what makes you tick, and why you think you've struggled with achieving climax.  I confess to being intrigued enough to want to help you get there more readily, but I don't know if I want to do that in the context of an arrangement.
My objective here is to get her honest appraisal of her sexuality, what barriers she think she has, and if she'd be willing to experiment with me sexually to find out what arouses her.  I don't think that would qualify, at least in my mind, as the ideal arrangement, which is why I left that open-ended.  For me, what's ideal is a woman who is already sexually "woke," someone who has done it all and identified what works for her and can communicate that to me without reservation or inhibition.

In hindsight, I don't think Phoebe would have been as open to that exploration, being at least five years older than Harmony.  I'm going to see this through, and if she isn't willing to try things out for a bit, I'll move on.

*     *     *

Meanwhile, Mel and I have our next date in four days, just before the election.  I'm raising the stakes and I'm going to try to open her up even more on an emotional level.  Having such a willing partner is a thrill!

Also, Rose and CJ have reached out and want to have a threesome with me. They were available as early as today, but I managed to push them back for a bit.  Before I see them I want to get tested again.  If all goes well with them, I'll also push for a couples swap with Rose and her boyfriend.

Wednesday, November 2, 2016

"It's Not Drama, It's Called Life"

My profile on the Sugar Daddy website has some choice nuggets that, if I'm being humble, seems to attract not a few young women and get them interested in knowing more about me.  This snippet, under "What I'm Looking For," might be something they like:
A minimum of drama (I don't expect zero drama because when two people like each other, sometimes there's conflict, so let's not shy away from it, let's learn from it). 

If you've been reading this blog for any length of time, you'll know that I do not like drama; when there's too much of it, things either blow up or they fizzle out. If there's going to be some drama, I like to keep it to a bare minimum and try to turn it into a learning experience.

Under the "too much drama" category is where I'd put Crystal.  I let her go late yesterday. After not hearing back from her for more than three hours after I'd asked her to confirm our date for today, I decided I was done.  Here's the text I sent her before the end of the work day:
Hey there. I know you're busy. I didn't hear back from you about confirming our date, so I'm pulling the plug. Basically, you've validated my concerns which I shared with you over lunch. Plus, based on your texts yesterday, I think that your massage work might also be sexual in nature, and I just don't feel safe. I wish you all the best.
A few minutes later I got a response, apologizing to me for not responding, but saying that she had been dealing with an emergency situation with her kids' father. You'll recall that my first post about Crystal noted that her ex-husband made no real effort to gain custody of their children, and that she was on her own. At the time I was very impressed with how she'd set up things to make time for some fun with me. But in the last several days, with her getting me mixed up with a massage "client" and not fully responding to my concerns about the possible sexual nature of her massage work, I'd grown suspicious of her ability to manage her time and all the balls she was juggling.  Not a judgment of her, but simply a concern in my mind about adding another ball -- me -- and me feeling satisfied with the quality of our time.  With so many available women to choose from I don't feel it's all that necessary for me to stretch to accommodate.  In short term relationships, as soon as it's no longer fun, it's time to end it.

In my mind, the fact that she was still dealing with him signaled to me that she had too much on her plate and I didn't have time for -- yes, you guessed it -- the drama! She was demonstrating with her very life circumstances that she had neither the time nor the energy to devote to an arrangement with me. Maybe some other Sugar Daddy had the patience for it.  She also said her massage work was not sexual, but ended with a dig about my massage work speculation: "Thanks for the rude comment."

At first I thought about letting that be the last word, but I thought it was better to clarify.  My response was pretty short and to the point: "I wasn't sure [if the massage work was sexual], which is why I said "I think it might be." I believe you. But with three jobs and two kids, you're too busy for an arrangement with me.  I don't need the drama."

"It's not drama, it's called life."  And with that our brief intersection was over.

That last comment has had me thinking for the past 18 hours or so. From her perspective, all that she was going through was just her navigating her busy life. One full time job, two part time jobs, two kids with full custody and a dad out of the picture living in another state. And an arrangement with me, who likes to communicate between dates? I didn't fit it with her life. But to me, when a person gets derailed or blown off course, it's called drama.  Another word for problems. Every single woman I've been with has had some drama in her life.  CC had some minor money problems. C/Hayden had a boyfriend, employment issues, and a crippling disease. Jade had drama about money, about honesty and integrity, and even who she wanted to be in life (at age 30). Audrey had the least amount of drama, just some family issues that I didn't write too much about. And Aussie had employment and money drama.  Others, like Chic, or Elle, or Leah, had drama as well.  Even Mel has some money and health drama.

It occurred to me that drama was part of the package when diving into the Sugar Bowl. And I think I've very consistently shown that I have little tolerance for too much of it. I pull the plug when the drama gets too high, in keeping with my commitment that it never interfere with my "real life." For some who I considered very special -- like C/Hayden or Jade -- I stuck around even though the drama escalated during our time together. But those experiences have taught me well, and I'm now less tolerant of drama than I was.  I haven't had a long-term arrangement in more than a year because I'm beginning to think that such things are too full of drama to make last.  If a Sugar Baby can't handle her shit, then I'm just not equipped to be the fixer. I've got my own shit to deal with, stuff I try very hard to keep out of my arrangements.  Perhaps it's a maturity thing -- my longer time on the planet has made me wiser and more resourceful. Shouldn't I share that with my sugar baby?  Of course! But there's a limit to everything, and when my limit is reached I must say goodbye.

I truly have no ill feelings toward Crystal. She has a full life that she manages well, and I'm impressed by that and by her.  But she wasn't a good fit for me.


Tuesday, November 1, 2016

A Sad Halloween, and Who's (Back) In, Who's (Back) Out, and Who's New?

Happy November, readers! Today, the Chicago Cubs may have to wait another year to break their streak of seasons without a World Series win, or they may get another chance tomorrow.  All Saints Day is today, a follow up to the mischief and mayhem of All Hallows Eve.  Mine was spent at home, waiting for the kiddies to show up in their costume finery.  The evening, however, turned out to be dead.  Literally.

About half an hour after DW and the kids left to gather candy around the neighborhood (my teenager took off from them and found friends to maraud the neighborhood with), I was watching my favorite scary movie, The Shining. During a particularly intense moment in the film, the wall behind my TV suddenly turned red. Flashing red lights were emanating from the street.  My dog started barking as I made my way to the front window, and then out the front door.  A paramedic van was parked directly in front of my house, while a fire truck and ladder truck were parked in front of the next two neighbors' houses.  The medics started rolling a gurney up my neighbor's driveway and rushing into the house, while a man frantically shouted from the front door, "Please! Please come!"  All but one of the firefighters went inside the house.  I knew the old guy next door, but not well, though he was well liked and had a great personal story.  He was nice to my kids, even though he was slightly eccentric, dropping off various publications full of right wing propaganda on my doorstep from time to time. On top of that, he liked to keep around a menagerie of crazy people as "roommates." While none of them was particularly dangerous, every one of them had bizarre idiosyncrasies that made DW nervous about having them around our kids.

An hour after they arrived, the fire and ladder trucks left, but the paramedic van stayed behind. I noticed that the gurney was still at the front door, which told me either a) the old guy wasn't nearly as bad off as was thought, or b) he was dead.  About twenty minutes later, the police showed up.  Not a good sign.  There had been instances of domestic disturbances at the house from time to time, but nothing violent.  If the old guy was dead, perhaps they were there to take statements and investigate to see if there might be foul play involved.  But no other police cars came.  A few minutes later, the paramedic van's flashing lights were turned off.  There was no longer any need; the man who had summoned the fire department was walking back to the house from his car, and when I asked about the old guy, he said, "He didn't make it."

By the time my kids came home with DW, it was about 9:15.  It had been nearly three hours since the medics showed up.  I had texted DW earlier that the old guy was gone, and she brought the younger kid home, but I had to go pick the teenager up at a friend's house.  I let the kid know on the way home.  We were all pretty saddened by the news.  I'm sure that there will be a funeral very soon, so I'll have to pay my respects.


Who's (Back) In?
Mel -- still in
Crystal -- still somewhat in, with a sex date scheduled for tomorrow.  Yesterday we had a text exchange that gave me serious pause.
Me: Hey there!  I hope you had a great weekend.  I'd like to book time for us on Wednesday, but only if you're available. Can you let me know?
Her: Sure, did you want a massage or what did you have in mind?
This text put me totally in my head about who this girl actually was. Clearly, she had forgotten who she was talking to.  She does massages part-time, but she told me she was a licensed massage therapist, and now I'm sensing that she does more than massages.  I struggled for a few minutes to figure out how to ask her without getting too obvious before deciding on a tack.
Me: This is Porter, we met a couple of weeks ago, remember? Are you confusing me with someone else? (upside down smiling emoji)
Her: No I'm not, I apologize, I do massage for clients and got confused (smiling emoji).
Definitely she was confusing me with someone else, but had figured out it was me.  She was probably pretty embarrassed and starting to fidget.  My next question had to be asked very carefully.
Me: I might be interested in a massage though. Are you a specialist in therapeutic massage, or do you do other kinds of massage?
Her: (Smiling emoji) I am a licensed massage therapist. I can do any kind of massage.
Me: I'm not interested in being a "client," luv (smiling emoji with heart eyes).  Unless your clients sometimes enjoy more than massage, that is.
Her: Haha no, not usually, that's my work!
WTF? What did this text mean, exactly?
Me: Not usually?
Her: LOL
Me: Or not ever?
No answer after eight minutes, so she was probably busy at work.  Still I never got an answer to that last question.  When she did respond she said she was down for meeting me.  I said I would confirm a couple of more times before booking a room, given how busy she seems to be.
I probably should have handled this more directly; I am now very concerned that Crystal moonlights as either an escort or some other sex worker. "What did you have in mind?" doesn't sound like a question a Sugar Baby asks right after she asks if I want a massage.  I caught her at an unguarded moment and I think she revealed something to me that she may not have wanted me to know. If she provides what some call "sensual massage" that involves sexual activity of any kind, I'm afraid she'll be out with me.  After the MJ nightmare, I don't want any part of any sex worker.  So while I have asked to confirm our date tomorrow and will ask again tomorrow.  If at any time I sense some hesitation I'll directly confront her and see what she says. This is a safety issue more than anything, but I'll admit to a negative bias toward sex workers dabbling in sugar.
Jewel -- in, but borderline out. She and I exchanged texts and I sensed some real urgency to wanting to get started on an arrangement and getting some cash.  She tried to set up a sex date with just a couple of hours' lead time. "I always meet casually first," I said, adding, "Maybe we can grab a drink."  While she agreed, a few more texts later she wrote, "Can we meet today and if things go well maybe we can get intimate?Only if you're comfortable with it."  She then revealed that she was trying to scrape together money for some hair extensions that she needed done for a modeling shoot she was doing.  I wasn't going down that road for this kid, but if she wanted to meet and get acquainted the regular way I was totally fine with helping her out on my terms.  No date set yet.
Shelly -- definitely more in than before.  We are having lunch next week.  I like her.
Chloe -- I moved her to out last week because I was in a pissy mood following the MJ nightmare and because we'd been out of touch for about four days.  Then, out of the blue, she texted me and wondered when we were meeting again for fun.  So she's back in!  I double-booked my sex date with Crystal, with Chloe as backup, telling Chloe that I "might not know until the day of if my schedule clears up.  Is that OK?"  She agreed.  So if there's no Crystal tomorrow, then I'll hook up with Chloe.
Rose -- she's back in because she reached out the second she returned from a trip (as in just a few minutes ago!).  She and CJ just got back from a weekend getaway and they're both down to play with me.  I would keep the threesome thing completely separate from Mel, who appears to be just a one-on-one kind of girlfriend.

Who's (Back) Out?
Aurora -- nothing ever sparked with her, so I just let that thread go.
Harmony -- She was in just last week, but now she's back out. She doesn't know it yet, but she disqualified herself during a text conversation yesterday, when she let it be known that she struggles to achieve orgasm.  As I did with Phoebe, I'm just going to let her go because Orgasms!

No one new.

Friday, October 28, 2016

WCSD Journal Update: Who's In, Who's Out, Who's New

Happy Friday, dear readers! I enter this weekend prior to Halloween hosting out of town relatives, enjoying some great Chinese food tonight, great Italian food tomorrow night, great bagels for Sunday brunch.  Meanwhile, one kid has intense athletics practice and the other some serious plans to indulge a favorite hobby/passion.  DW and I will continue to build intimacy, but we will hold the celibate line ,as we have since January 25, 2015.

Meanwhile, in my Sugar life, the girls are moving in and out of contention.  Here's an update:

Who's In
Mel -- still my #1, still my lover, one of the best partners I've ever had in eight years
Crystal -- holding steady at #2 now that MJ turned out to be a skanky ass escort.  I'm starting to get concerned that her four jobs -- office manager, part time massage therapist, part time makeup artist, and full time MOM -- are going to get in the way.  We scheduled a tentative date for mid week next week.
Harmony -- has moved out of borderline out territory.  This cute Asian bikini dancer has been reaching out since our phone call last week, and asking some great questions designed to get to know me better.  I find both the reaching out and the inquisitiveness parts very attractive.
Jewel -- My neighborhood girl.  She wants to get together for lunch next week and understands the need for a face to face meeting before hooking up.  However, she has some immediate financial needs that are showing up as a sense of urgency in her texts to me. A bit of a turnoff, honestly, but I'll indulge it awhile.
Shelly -- Still liking this MILF.  Trying to make time to see her next week, but not sure yet.

Who's Out
Chloe -- After the total failure with MJ, I spent yesterday in a foul mood most of the time. While sitting at home last night and going through the text messages I've been exchanging with all these girls, I saw that I hadn't contacted Chloe in four days. I figured that was longer than I'd been out of touch with all the others, and I just immediately deleted the entire text thread, losing her phone number with it. If she wants to see me she'll reach out, but I'm just tired of chasing so many. Harmony, with her taking a more active approach, kind of knocked her out, actually.
MJ -- obviously

No one new, thank God.

Last night, Linda expressed some regret and jealousy.  Regret that I might have felt a little upset by her needling me about the MJ disaster, and jealousy that I'm choosing to invest in local talent rather than splurging to bring her out west for fun. I adore Linda, but I told her on Wednesday that she and I were in "the friend zone" and I could no longer see getting sexual with her. I sent her a text last night that made it very clear: "I really don't think it serves you or our friendship to continue to suggest we hook up. Luv, ya, but it's not going to happen."  She replied, "Ouch..." which I hope was just a little bit of a joke.  We'll see what develops next, but I trust our friendship will hold steady.

Thursday, October 27, 2016

It Had to Happen Sometime! Part 2

I had just had the Worst. Fuck. Ever.  MJ, the escort posing as a sugar baby, bid a hasty retreat from my hotel room, never to be seen or heard from again.  Good riddance!

Except now that I was lying there, naked, on the hotel bed in a darkened hotel room, less than thirty minutes after she'd arrived, I was now feeling depressed and dejected.  I'd had high hopes for this girl, and she dashed all of them, like a boss.  I needed to talk to someone about it, but there was no one who could understand. I did, however, have a sugar friend on the East Coast, Linda.  I sent her a text via Google Hangout, the way we always communicated. She asked, "When are we ever going to talk on the phone?"  I was in the mood to talk, so I sent her my number.  She called and we talked for about 20 minutes before my phone nearly ran out of battery.

What I'd hoped for was some sympathy, but instead I got laughed at, for the most part, with a cursory sprinkling of sympathy. "You see?" she said. "You coulda flown me out there and I woulda shown you a great time," but instead I had to fuck some skanky bitch.  While she was on her way to getting drunk, Linda was still right to a point, except that the talent pool in my city is far too deep to look elsewhere for suitable companions.  I just happened, unfortunately, to step in the shallow end of the pool this time.

After the phone call, I washed up thoroughly to get the smell of that rank, stinky pussy off my body. Once dressed, I headed home.  That night, I got myself off watching the video I'd shot of me and Staci, and got a good night's sleep.

My experience with MJ truly ranked as the worst sex I have ever had with a woman.  Even those experiences where I came in 10 seconds (when I was 18 or 19) were better than this.  I was reminded of previous experiences I'd had, ranked as the Bottom Five of Bad Sex:

5. Fleur -- her allowance was far lower than MJ's, and she was actually intelligent and funny, even though she was a total dud in bed (I did come while fucking her though);
4. Paulina -- she was even more of a dud than Fleur, but I did get to come while fucking her;
3. Julie -- an escort who got less money than MJ, but who was a total zero in bed (major deductions for also bleeding on me);
2. Ally -- a Craigslist escort I visited in summer 2008 (never wrote about her) who did nearly the exact same stuff as MJ, plus asked me constantly if I was ready to cum and started booking her next client before I got off the bed to wash up.

I'm not really one to beat myself up too much over bad experiences. I'll feel my feelings, to be sure, but it doesn't take me long to start looking all around for lessons to be learned.  That's one of my takeaways from my time spent in a recovery program. So, if I had to identify any lessons from this experience, one would be that the Sugar Dating website I frequent has more people engaged in a deceptive hustle of some kind or other than I think.  Another would be that if a woman on that site pushes for an immediate meeting for sex, chances are she's probably an escort.  Any woman I encounter in the future who angles for first-meeting sex will be rejected.

I also resolved to make a few changes: First, I will insist with every potential Sugar Baby on a casual, no-allowance first meet. Since escorts and other sex workers live on the clock, this change will weed out nearly all escorts, as well as those girls who want "a gift" to audition me as their potential sugar daddy. Second, I'll update my profile to let anyone who sees it know that a casual, no-allowance first meet comes before sex. As I've regularly shared my allowance terms in text messages, it should be appreciated that I care about chemistry rather than just pussy.  Finally, I downloaded Google Voice today and have added a "burner" number to my phone, from which I'll send texts and make phone calls.  This way, all future potentials will never know my real phone number.  I honestly can't believe I didn't do this a long time ago, but better late than never.

Having purged MJ's texts and pictures from my cell phone, my gaze now shifts to the lovely Crystal, with whom I'll be trysting next week.  I've met her, matched her face and body with her pictures, and created a decent rapport. Should be a lot of fun!

It Had to Happen Sometime! -- Part 1

Worst. Fuck. Ever.

I'd had such high hopes of having a fantastic time with MJ, who met me at a hotel yesterday afternoon.  After all, her profile was great, her pictures were amazing, and she appeared to have a cute sense of humor around our first meeting, declining a lunch because she was "on a diet" (which I interpreted as she just wanted to fuck).  God, was I all wrong about her!

She showed up, on time, dressed in a short black dress and high heels, her long light brown hair down nearly to her waist.  She had very long legs, which matched one of the pictures she'd sent me.  Her face wasn't exactly like the one in her profile pictures, but that didn't bother me too much because those were lit a bit dark and she looked enough like the girl in the pics to satisfy me.  However, I will say that I was slightly disappointed.

It all went spectacularly downhill from there.  After coming in, MJ gave me a hug and asked if I could adjust the lighting.  She wasn't particular, but she didn't want a light on next to the bed.  I took care of it, and then she sat on the bed for a few seconds while we made what felt like a feeble attempt at small talk. She told me that she's studying to get a certification to be a life coach. Honestly, that's all I remember her telling me. "Is there anything you need?" I asked.  "Nope, not really," she replied, "just the money."  Thinking nothing of this request -- it's fairly common for new sugar encounters to begin with her asking for the money -- I handed her the envelope.

What. A. Mistake. (Yes, I know I've employed that cliched trick of punctuation twice in less than 300 words; believe me, there's a point to be made here.)

"Well, I guess I should get undressed," MJ said, standing up and making her way to the bathroom, purse in hand with envelope inside.  Hmm, I thought to myself, this will be a one-time encounter for sure. She's got zero personality.

I didn't take off my clothes, preferring instead to have her undress me.  I was in a playful mood and I wanted to get the most out of this.

After MJ emerged from the bathroom, fully naked except for her shoes (which I asked her to remove), she sat on the bed and we talked for a few minutes. I realized after a moment or two that she was waiting for me to engage.  This had started to feel very much like an escort session.  I felt terribly disappointed.  Should I tell her to leave? I thought. She already has my money, and I'm certainly not going to get it back without an argument. Might as well see what's up, I decided.

I got off the bed and removed all my clothes.  "Wow," she said, "that's a really big dick."  She touched it for a few seconds and I got semi-hard.  She was hesitating for some reason, so I thought I'd get her in the mood.  You have to understand that I hadn't fully decided this was an escort session, so I figured giving her a little of my special oral talents would loosen her up.  I sat up and leaned in to kiss her, getting a very perfunctory kiss on the lips.  "Hmm," she said.  "Let me do you," I suggested. "Oh, no," she replied, "I don't need any, um, head.  Besides, I'm a little close to getting my period, so I don't feel so..." she let her sentence trail off.

Knowing that I wasn't going to give head, I nevertheless persisted with me getting head. She moved her long hair out of the way and started to suck me, which wasn't half bad.  Once I was hard, she said, "Wanna get your, um, thingy?"  "You mean the condom?" I said.  "Well, yeah," she said, "you're hard."  Fuck me, I thought, she's a hooker.  She reminded of a hooker I saw about eight years ago, right as I was beginning my sugar daddy journey, who insisted I fuck her the second I was hard, and also kept asking me if I was ready to cum yet.  "I'm liking what you're doing so far," I said, lying so I could get more sucking in.  She, however, wasn't quite going for it, but she stroked me a lot and it felt really good.  Hookers gotta have good hands, I guess.

After I was suitably hard and, frankly, bored with her hand job, I got up to get the condoms and lube. "No lube," she warned.  "OK," I said, "but you're gonna wish we were using it."  "I use only coconut oil," she said.  MJ was the second girl to tell me that, after Rose brought it up when we were together. I guess I'll look for a really small bottle of it.  Not that I need it with Mel.

Once the condom was on, I asked her how she'd like to begin.  As she requested, I entered her from behind.  Unfortunately, from this position, I could tell she was very close to getting her period.

Stinkiest. Pussy. Ever.

I kept looking down to see if she was bleeding me, which caused me to lose any interest in fucking this dry hole.  I tried other things to arouse myself.  I reached around to stroke her clit -- dry, and her pubic hair was stubbly all over.  I tried squeezing her tits.  They were wonderfully natural and felt great in my hand, so that helped a little.  I noticed, however, that her nipples did not feel as large as they looked in the pictures she sent, further confirming for me that she sent me fake pictures.

I pulled out and had her flip over.  I confirmed that, in fact, the topless girl in the picture she sent was not MJ.  Entering her was more difficult because she also had the Driest. Pussy. Ever.  After less than a minute, I pulled out again and stopped.  I'd had enough.  "It would be nicer if you were enjoying yourself," I admitted, slipping off the condom and placing it on the nightstand. "You're totally dry down there."  "Wow," she said, examining her pussy, "I think you damaged my hole.  It's wide open." "Oh, it'll be alright in a minute," I said, completely disappointed.  I lay down on my back and she offered to finish me off with her hands.  I took her up on her offer because that was literally the only thing that felt good with her.  It took a few minutes and I came.

She got off the bed, saying that she was just going to wash her hands.  However, I saw her take her purse again, which confirmed for me that she was going to get dressed and leave.  Sure enough, about three minutes later, she emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed.  "Are you going back to work?" she asked.  "No," I replied, "I'm done for the day.  But it looks like you're going back to work." "What?" she said.  "Well, you're leaving, aren't you?" I said, resigned to the waste of time and money. "Well, you came," she said.

As I explained to her that this was the worst sugar meet I'd ever had, she tried to explain that she'd never done this before and she thought I just wanted to get together for sex.  "I offered to buy you lunch," I said, "because that's how we get to know each other first. If I'd known you'd be such a bore, I would never have agreed to this." Of course, she didn't like that.  "OK, I'm gonna go now, bye!" And with that, she was gone.

-- to be continued --

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Settling In With Mel

Mel and I saw each other for the fifth time yesterday afternoon. Apart from the volcanic sex we had, which I hope happens every time we're together, we also reached an understanding about our relationship.

Mel continues to say that I'm the best lover she's ever had.  Judging by how many times she cums when we play it's pretty obvious that she really enjoys herself (and that I've got mad skills in bed!). While lying together in our spacious room on our comfy bed, I called her out on a few things that had been eating at me since our last time together -- which was the spectacular threesome we had with Rose.  I wrote about it a little bit in the follow up post, but I think Mel was not as enthusiastic about how our threesome went, and about having another woman in bed with us at all.

Mel continues to say that she had a good time with Rose and wasn't bothered at all that I fucked Rose after Mel left.  But I made my case anyway. "It just struck me as odd that you would make a comment at all about how Rose can't cum without a vibrator when, at most, we'd see her one or two more times," I said. "Did it really make a difference how she gets off with us?  Or even if?"  Mel then copped to not having the feels for Rose.  "Well, I just didn't get that connection with her like I do with other women."  Of course, I told her that was OK. "We won't be seeing Rose anymore," I told her.  "No," she replied, "if you want us to hook up with her again, that'd be OK, but it just won't be the same as with someone I really like."  I told Mel I appreciated her willingness, but the threesome has to work for both of us or it can't work at all.  Basically, I thought to myself, if I want to fuck Rose again, I'll have to do it on the side (maybe her friend CJ can join us), and not tell Mel about it.

On that front, Mel wants to revert back to condom use if I'm going to fuck other women, and I agree with her.  No sense in putting anyone at risk with all the STDs going around out there.  Mel happens to be a bit phobic of them; as long as I test regularly there should be no problem, but I'll accede to her wishes because I like her and want to continue seeing her.

Mel and I didn't take our own feelings for each other too deep.  It wasn't something we were ready to discuss, though we did look into each other's eyes a lot.  When we had sex the second time, she took me in her mouth completely limp and got me super hard again.  She playfully asked, "Can I sit on you for a little while?"  "You don't even need to ask, silly girl," I said.  It didn't take very long before I was ready to cum again.  This time she didn't take me in her mouth, as she had the first time I came. Instead, she watched me jerk off.  When I climaxed my body went through all the motions of having a huge orgasm, but I didn't ejaculate a drop. 

"Ha!" I laughed, "You finally saw what I've been talking about." 

"Did you feel the same way as if you would have ejaculated?" she asked.  

"Exactly the same."

"Wow, I've just never seen anything like that before."

"Took getting used to for me," I said, "but it's the best 'cuz there's no mess to clean up after."

We had completely run out of time, so we said a quick goodbye and I stayed behind to shower and clean up.

There's no doubt I'll see her again in a couple of weeks.


MJ is failing to impress me. I've never hooked up with a girl I hadn't spoken to first (actually that's not true -- there was The Dancer, with whom I'd only exchanged texts and pics), and I told her I wanted at least a short phone call before we met for sex later this week.  She agreed and gave me a time, but when I called, she didn't answer.  I didn't even hear her voice on the outgoing message; it was just some shitty dance music.  I left her a message, and gave her a time when I'd be available, but she didn't call back.  She texted me this morning and I gave her more times for her to call.  If she doesn't call me in the next couple of hours, I'm blowing her off.

Crystal could have been a backup for tomorrow, but she's not available till late in the day.  We're still set for next week.

Jewel is back in town and we exchanged messages today.  She lives in my neighborhood.  You've read before what I think about having a sugar baby live so close to home.   I'm still concerned about this, but because Jewel can't host, I can have her meet me in another part of town.

Someone New:  Shelly is a mid-30s single mom with a young kid under 10, who lives about 30 minutes away.  Can't host either, but what's different about this girl is that I found her on a different sugar website that I'd been checking out, called Sugar Models.  The site's pretty similar to my regular site, but one neat feature is that daddies can get 20 free messages without paying for a membership. I've been very frugal about those messages, since there aren't a whole lot of women on that site yet. Shelly found me, so I was able to say something like, "Hey, babe, profile looks great! Here's my number if you're interested in chatting further." We've been chatting for a few days now, and it looks like we'll meet casually in a couple of weeks.  She's a tall blonde with blue eyes and a really cute face and a slender body.  I think we'd have fun together.  

Another Someone: Madge is a tall, slender, working fashion model who has no need for my money. She went straight to sex talk from the get-go.  She calls herself very kinky, so I laid out my boundaries right away. Didn't seem to sway her at all.  Early-20s, strawberry blonde to redhead, and a "light smoker," I'm ambivalent about her for a number of reasons.  Despite the fact that she's got an amazing body and beautiful face, she is quite "bushy" and I am just all that turned on by it.  Still she looks like a young Madonna (hence the name I've given her).  If I can get past these little hangups, who knows? As for the sexuality, I like an assertive woman, so we'd just have to see if she's really dominant in bed too.  I do like me some red hair too.

More later!

When to Have Sex with Your Sugar Daddy

My third post at Let's Talk Sugar is up, called "When to Have Sex with Your Sugar Daddy."  The editors did a great job with this one, I must say.


Friday, October 21, 2016

WCSD Journal Update -- Who's In, Who's Out, and Who's New

Now that my lunch with Lauren is over, and my connection with Phoebe is over, it's time for an update:

Who's In:
Mel -- We have a date for Monday afternoon.  She and I both have things to discuss with each other. There will no doubt be some intensity from that, but I hope that it is mildly intense.
Chloe -- I haven't contacted Chloe since we had drinks earlier this week, but I will reach out before day's end.  She is definitely someone I want to see again.
MJ -- We have a date for Wednesday afternoon.  She'll be coming to my neighborhood rather than me going to her, which will save me time coming home.  I sent her a text this morning to get her buy-in, writing, "Should we have lunch first? Or are we just gonna get busy?  Either way is fine with me." Her response was classic: "I'm on a diet."  I looked up some Spanish phrases online and came up with a great response: Voy a devorarte, which means, "I'm going to eat you up."
Crystal -- Having broken bread with this sweet and lovely single mom, I'm more convinced than ever to enjoy some quality time between her legs.
Aurora -- She and I are still trading texts and I'm trying to set up a one-on-one date with her.  Not sure if that will bear fruit, but she definitely looks like she's got the goods to show me a good time.
Harmony -- This cute little Asian doll works as a bikini dancer, and has sent me several great pictures of her body. She's got a tight little booty and small breasts, and looks good enough to eat. Spread some Sriracha on her and let's go!

Who's Out:
Mo -- I'm done straddling the fence with the porn starlet. Given the talent in the Who's In category, I'm unconvinced that I ought to pony up additional funds to spend time with a woman who in real life looks far less attractive than her on-screen persona.
Phoebe -- See my previous post, reflecting on orgasm.
Lauren -- My lunch with her was pleasant enough, but she was not nearly attractive in person than in her pictures.  I learned during lunch that she has trained as a makeup artist, so the pictures she posted on her profile were the best she's probably ever looked.  Her blue eyes are lovely, but Megan Fox she ain't, not by a long shot.  A little too thick, everywhere.  I'll wait a few days and then say no thank you.

Who's New:
Jewel -- Early 20s, brunette college cutie. She and I exchanged initial messages, but she stopped responding so I gave up. Apparently, she didn't, and she reached out today. I left her my number.  If she doesn't text me in a week, I'll know she's a flake, but damn, she's cute.

A Reflection on the Orgasm

When I was about 12 years old, I remember horsing around with a girl I knew, wrestling on my bedroom floor, and giggling.  We were in our swimsuits, having recently just gotten out of the pool and going upstairs to listen to some music.  I hadn't noticed at all that I was that aroused, but when I gained control during the wrestling match and was on top of her, between her legs, I held her there with my entire body.  She was giggling, and telling me to get off of her, but I was noticing something happening between my legs.  I had no idea what actually was happening, but it felt really, really good. Within a few moments, my hips started moving to add some rubbing against her, and it wasn't long before I felt my entire body twitching and tensing, particularly my penis. When I got up after the sensation subsided, I looked down and noticed this white goopy stuff on the outside of my swimsuit and on her stomach.  My friend asked me what it was, but I had no idea.  We just wiped it off with a towel and we went back downstairs.  All I knew at that moment was that I had to experience that feeling again, as soon as possible.

At some point after that I'd discovered how to re-create the circumstances of that encounter with my friend.  Using a spare blanket, which I'd wadded up to resembled my friend's open legs, I'd take off my clothes and rub against the blanket.  In a few minutes my body would tingle everywhere and the blanket and my stomach were covered with this sticky mess that came out of me. Despite the mess, all I could think was, This. Is. Fantastic.

I can honestly say that, since those innocent days of discovery, I've had an orgasm practically every day, and frequently multiple times per day.  The last one was just last night. Because of the meds I take, the mess is almost always gone, but the sensation remains and I absolutely love how my body feels -- before, during and after.  Add the more than 100 women I've been with over the years, and the emotional bonding and connections that inevitably develop (or don't), and the whole orgasmic enterprise gets elevated -- at least in my mind -- to something akin to a spiritual practice.

I wrote the story above, dear readers, as a contrast to an experience I've had over the last 24 hours. You will remember from two previous posts the indecision I was experiencing over whether or not to sleep with Phoebe.  I wrote at first: 
My concern now is that if I drag my feet with her any longer, she'll completely shut me out. The shallow part of me would actually like to fuck her before that happens. 
Then I wrote:
Phoebe may also not be quite my cup of tea, but I am really conflicted over whether or not to consent to an intimate date with her in order to keep her interested a while longer.
Phoebe had texted me on Wednesday morning asking if I'd decided on the tentative intimate date we'd discussed for Friday.  I went more than a day thinking about it, but late yesterday afternoon I decided that it was better to sleep with her than not. I figured that, if she was still in the running for whatever reason, it would be better to sleep with her so I can make a more informed decision. My mind was still considering the fact that I had taken the chance and had lunch with Crystal even though I had preconceived notions about moms, and had been very pleasantly surprised.

So I texted Phoebe before I left the office: "Sorry for the late response; I wanted to see how my schedule for Friday was going to shake out.  Looks like there's time to get together!  Let me know what time you'd like for me to come over."  She and I agreed on a time, she gave me the address, the gate code, and her apartment number, and where to park. It was on, and I was excited!

Then, last night while we each lay in our separate beds, at the end a fairly lively and flirtatious text conversation, she wrote, "Can't wait to have fun with you!" "And multiple orgasms," I wrote back, confident that I was going to bring my A-game.

"Slow down there, cowboy," she wrote, "let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"You doubt me?" I asked.

"I do," she replied.  "I've had like four orgasms my whole life so it's not a goal of mine."

Had you been with me, dear readers, you would have heard the high-pitched "Whaaaaat?" that came out of my mouth at that moment.

"Getting sleepy now," she wrote.  "Night."

I put the phone down, mind racing.  How does anyone get through life having only four orgasms? Did she mean through sex alone?  Did she masturbate and have orgasms that way? If so, could we incorporate masturbation into our sexual activities? Thinking about Mel and her highly orgasmic sexuality, I proceeded to have a restless night thinking about how my encounter with Phoebe might go, knowing that the only orgasm in the room would likely be my own.

When I woke up this morning, my mind was made up: I was cancelling the date, and Phoebe was out. Once I dropped my kid off at high school, I composed the text on my way to the office:
"Sorry for the short notice, but I'm canceling our date. While we've had a decent and easy rapport, your admission last night that you are essentially non-orgasmic was, unfortunately, a deal breaker for me. I know that sounds shallow, and maybe it is, but after 8 years in this lifestyle I know exactly what I want. And that is a highly orgasmic partner capable of completely letting go when we have sex. While I'm sure you enjoy having sex, part of my enjoyment involves my partner having orgasms with me. This is hugely disappointing for me because I was truly hoping to get to know you better, but that won't be happening now. You are probably calling me every name in the book right now, which is fine, but I'm just being honest and letting you know where I'm coming from."
She wrote back that she still enjoys sex regardless of not having orgasms, "but whatever. Please don't contact me again."

My relationship with my body has given me decades of pleasure. In my fifties, when most other men are reaching for the medicine to boost their testosterone levels, I'm still very much like a fucking 18-year-old when it comes to getting it up and keeping it up. I have a sexless marriage with a woman who has zero relationship with her body. I struggled with Leah's inability to come when we had sex, and know that I could not have been comfortable long term with Natalie's constant need for a vibrator to achieve orgasm during sex.  Why in the world would I pick a Sugar Baby who isn't anything except deeply in touch with what makes her body feel good and is open enough to experience the total surrender that can only happen during orgasm?

Women reading this post (and maybe some men) might feel a little (or a lot) like I'm being a dick about this. Could be true. I've read articles for years that asserted that non-orgasmic women were no different than their more orgasmic sisters, and were equally able to enjoy the pleasures of sex in all their forms. I accept that and I'd believe any woman who says that she enjoys sex even though she doesn't come.  But this is my sugar journey, and my partners, while also on their own journeys, are along for the ride with me. I know what I want in a partner, I won't settle for less, but at the same time I make no judgment about those who are not a match.  If that makes me a dick in someone's eyes, then I'm a dick.

Meanwhile, I am seeing Lauren today for lunch, and fucking Mel on Monday and MJ on Wednesday. I hope they will have as much fun with me as I know I'm going to have with them.