I sit in the half-full cafe as the jingle of cups and saucers surround me. The cute barista that offhandedly flirts with me when I get a coffee here is looking over at my empty table. I try not to let her know I notice her. I’m waiting for my date. Well, actually my client. My Sugar Daddy.
The newest one. The others are a story for another day but this is the Daddy I want to write about today. He’s very average. I know that doesn’t sound sexy but if you want the truth? Most Sugar Daddies are not Christan Grey. They are Michael Scott but less attractive (I dunno what that says about my Steve Carrel fetish) They are emotionally stunted civil engineers. The newly divorced middle-aged high school teacher or in Daniel’s case, just a well-off businesses owner with very mundane looks and awkward social skills. Daniel doesn’t pay as well as my other Daddies did. But he’s easy. He’s consistent and I can get him to buy me a coffee and cum in me within a couple of hours of counting the wad of cash he hands me as he takes a seat and sips his Earl Grey.