"So why'd you decide to find a sugar baby?" asked Lauren, the cute grad student sitting across the table
"What I'm looking for is..." I set down my menu and thought for a moment.
It had been a rough couple of months. I'd given the eulogy at my father's funeral a few weeks back, something I'd never imagined doing at 30 years old. He and I's relationship had always been strained and it had been obvious to everyone that he wouldn't last long drinking as much as he had been, but it was still sad.
And shortly before that my wife and I had decided to separate. There was no clear "why", so much as a sense that we'd grown into very different people after college.
I felt I'd tied myself in knots trying to be the husband that she wanted and looking for some way to get through to Dad. It was exhausting. It meant neglecting myself. What I wanted now was...
"...a relationship on my terms." I said finally. "What I want, when I want it. With someone good at making me feel good. But real relationships don't work like that, it's not sustainable. So I've gotta offer something in return."
"Hmm, makes sense," she said, turning back to her own menu.
"What about you?" I asked. "Why'd you decide to
be
a sugar baby?"
Lauren sighed. I learned that her parents were rich. And generous, provided their expectations were met, which they currently were not. They sent her to an expensive college to study history and political science and proceed straight to law school afterward. But she discovered she really loved history and decided to go to grad school instead.
"They didn't disown me or anything," she continued. "But I'm on my own for tuition and rent. And one of my sorority sisters did this for a while and said she actually met some fun and interesting guys, so I thought I'd give it a try. Plus, I love my apartment and I can't work enough hours to pay rent at a normal job."
"I think we can help each other out," I said.
The waiter came by and took our order and for a while we covered the usual first date topics: hobbies, my job, her classes, favorite foods, favorite movies, and...
"Wait, you grow your own magic mushrooms?" she asked, incredulous.
"Yeah, ever since I found out how easy it was, " I replied.
"That's actually pretty cool," she said.
That felt good. I'd "interviewed" a few girls before and their reactions ranged from polite "oh, that's nice"-es to outright concern. Likewise, she was relieved when she told me she was in a Russian studies program and I didn't launch into conspiracy theories about the war or accuse her of being an un-American traitor.
I smiled. Yes, I was looking for an overtly transactional relationship, but I still wanted it to be with someone who I clicked with. With Lauren, I'd found that someone.
"So," I said after our plates were cleared. " I think we should do this. What do you think?"
"We still need to talk details. What exactly do you expect from me?"
"I'm thinking we'd see each other on Fridays," I proposed. "You come over to my place, we have some dinner, some sparkling conversation, have sex, spend the night together, and then forget about each other until our next date."
"Forget about each other?" Lauren asked, eyebrows raised.
"I meant that I'm not worried about what you do when we're not together. If you want to go on dates or sleep with other people, that's fine. And I don't think I'll want to talk much between dates."
"I guess that works," she said. "But tbh, as busy as I am with my program, I don't think I'll be interested in seeing other people."
"Same here," I said. My job as a software developer could be intense and between it, hobbies, my family & friends, housework, and trying to stick to an exercise routine, I didn't think I'd have much interest in seeing other people either.
"Okay. Then the last thing to talk about is price..."
"How much is your rent?"
She told me.
"I'll cover all of it."
She raised her eyebrows at that. "Really?"
"Yes. But I meant what I said: 'someone who's good at making me feel good'. I'm not paying that much just to have something pretty to look at."
"Aww," she said, putting her hands under her chin and batting her eyes at me. "You think I'm pretty???"
***
The next Friday night, my phone buzzed and I saw that it was a text from Lauren.
Hey, just left my apartment. I'll see you soon!
I felt a tiny jolt of adrenaline and smiled. I was excited. And a little nervous, no point denying it. I set my phone down and finished loading our takeout fajitas into the oven to keep them warm until she got here.
I took one last look in the mirror and liked what I saw: I'm 5'11 and lean. One of those people who's genetically incapable of putting on fat, in spite of my diet and (almost non-existent) exercise routine. With summer just around the corner it was pretty warm and I went with a short-sleeved red linen shirt and khaki shorts.
I went back into the living room and after 10 minutes of pacing and doomscrolling I heard the doorbell.
I opened up and there she was.
Lauren was about 5'5, with wavy, shoulder-length brown hair and brown eyes. She'd told me that she played a lot of sports in high school, but since college she only occasionally made it to the gym or out for a power walk. I thought I could see that lean former field-hockey player's build under a more recent layer of softness.
She stepped inside and her eye shadow caught my attention. Both eyes sparkled, but while one was subtly blue, the other one had a hint of red. I then noticed that they matched the red and blue ribbon in her hair. It was undeniably working, but I was curious what had inspired it. There was also a sense of déjà vu that I couldn't explain.
"What made you go with the red and blue?" I asked.
"School spirit!" she replied.
She grinned, watching the gears turn as I tried to figure out what was going on.
"Well," she said, her grin turning mischievous. "You seemed excited about your little coed sugar baby, so I decided to look the part! I dug around in my closet for one of my old gameday outfits. Do you like it?"
That was it. She was wearing frayed denim short shorts with a thin black belt. A white halter top showed off both her midriff and a generous amount of cleavage. Instantly, I was transported back to the quad on a fall Saturday, seeing hundreds of girls with their own version of what Lauren had on.
"I-I love it"
"I'm glad," she said, flashing me one more smile. "Now you mentioned something about fajitas? I'm starving!"
She followed her nose through the living room and into the kitchen and sat down as I got out plates and silverware and served the food. I was hungry too, so neither of us said anything for the next few minutes, besides some small talk about how our weeks had been.
We finished and, over my protests, she cleared the plates and started rinsing them in the sink. Meanwhile, I decided some music was in order. Given her outfit and that bro country is one of my vices, Luke Bryan's
Sorority Girl
started playing through the kitchen smart speaker. She rolled her eyes, but soon she was quietly singing along and moving her hips to the rhythm.
Things started feeling tight and urgent as I watched her move, her ass looked amazing in her denim shorts. Almost without realizing it, I got out of my chair and stepped behind her, placing my hands on her hips and gently pulling us together. She glanced over her shoulder, looking pleased with herself, then backed firmly against me and gave her hips an extra wiggle.
She finished the last dish and shut off the water, but stayed slightly bent over, grinding into me. My heart was pounding, the tightness was becoming unbearable. My hands drifted up, past her waist, caressed the skin exposed by her halter top, soon arriving at her--
"Before this goes any further," she said, straightening up and gently pushing my hands back down, "I remember we made certain agreements..."
"Ah, right," I said, fumbling in my pocket for my phone. I fished it out and held it in front of both of us, then transferred her a month's rent.
She took my phone from me and set it down on the counter, then turned around and reached both hands behind my neck. Looking me in the eyes, she gave me an exaggeratedly sweet smile and said: "Thank you, Daddy".
I'd barely registered the jolt that passed through my lower body when she kissed me. We held the kiss for a moment and then we both back slightly. Her eyes were wide, her mouth was slightly open. I wrapped my arms around her torso, pushed her back against the counter and crushed my mouth against hers.
She gave a little groan as I pushed my tongue into her mouth. She sucked on it briefly before pushing her own into mine. We went back and forth a couple more times before she pushed against my chest and made noise like she was trying to speak. We broke apart and this time there was a look of concern on her face.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Um, so, this is really hot and I want to keep going. But all I can taste is-"
"Fajitas." I replied with a small laugh.
"Yeah," she said, beginning to look relieved. "Do you have some mouthwash or something we can use?"
"I'll go brush my teeth real quick. And there should be some new toothbrushes and little travel toothpastes and mouthwashes in the guest bath. Let me show you."
She followed me to the guest bathroom and I pointed them out, then went into the master. I brushed quickly and took a swig of mouthwash. I heard the guest room toilet flush and realized I had to go too. Mercifully, my erection had deflated a bit, which made things a little easier. In a fit of chivalry I dampened a washcloth to give my member a quick wipe-down, washed my hands, and headed back to the living room.
She reappeared a minute later, looking much more relaxed.
"Okay," she said with small sigh. "Where were we?
Wanting to be helpful, I took her hands in mine and placed them around my neck, then pulled her into me, wrapping my own arms around her and grabbing her ass with both hands. The minty flavor was a definite upgrade and we went back to exploring each other's mouths.
I came up for air but kept my forehead pressed against hers, looking down at her tits. They were a handful, and then some. I kept a firm hold on her ass with my left hand while my right rose to knead her breast through her top. She gave a little "mmm" and pulled my head closer so she could start kissing the left side of my neck as my thumb gently rubbed a hardening nipple.
This top had to go. I straightened up and guided her to turn her back to me. I lifted her top up and over her head, revealing a nude-colored strapless bra, which I also got rid of. Wanting full access, I took her wrists and moved them behind her back, then hugged her, trapping her arms between our bodies.
"Is this okay?" I murmured in her ear.
"Mmm, yeah," she said, her head lolling back against my shoulder.
I grabbed one of her perky tits in each hand and massaged them, experimentally lifting and moving, wanting my hands to map every inch of them. Then I adjusted my grip and used my thumbs and pointers to gently pinch and prod each nipple until they were standing at attention. She gave another small moan.
"You really like them, huh?" Lauren asked, craning her neck to look up at me.
