Sugar Baby (3 page)

Chapter Four

“So, did you get another job?” Jeremy asks.

“Uh... Kind of. It's casual. But, it's a much better wage than here, so...”

“Oh. Kitchen work? Or...”

“No. Uh, customer service.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Well, it's just that... I didn't know you were... interested in that,” he says, pouring the cream for a pasta carbonara. Then, I get what he means.

“Hey, I can be nice when I want to!”

“Okay...!” He responds sarcastically, raising his hands defensively, and smiling. He adds the bacon, and his own personal touch twist on the dish: caramelized onions, julienned pear, and nutmeg. It smells divine.

“It's only temporary. To save up some money.”

“Oh. Well, good. Good for you.”

“Thanks.” My cell phone rings. “Well, I better take off.”

“Sure. Well, see ya tomorrow!”

“Yep.”

I duck outside, and see Stephen on the caller I.D. I get a nervous feeling in my stomach, but the smile on my face tells me that it's one of excitement and anticipation.

“Hello?”

“Kat. Hello.”

“Stephen! I didn't expect to hear from you.”

“A happy surprise, I hope?”

“Yes, actually.”

“Good! I have a proposition for you. May I request your accompaniment this evening?”

“I think I'm available. For what?”

“A party. I thought it might be a good opportunity for you to meet others in the community that share our similar interests.”

“Okay... and you would like me there?”

“Very much so.” I take a breath, having given this much thought over the past couple days.

“I would love to.”

“Fantastic! The dress code is semi formal. I'll pick you up at eight.”

Semi formal. I look through my closet, to find something appropriate. Or, inappropriate, as the case may be. From the pictures on several websites I got the general impression of what I'm expected to look like. Slutty, yet classy. I've already worn my only form fitting dress, so I resort to a white tube dress that I often wear under other dresses as body shaper. Feeling bare, I grab an old necklace of my mom's. The look is starting to come together. I straighten my hair, and opt for a little eye liner this time. It takes three tries to draw the lines even. I have a gold pashmina that works as a cover up, and the black heels I wore the other night are my only option for shoes.

I hear a knock at the door, and I open it to find not Stephen, but a driver. Behind him is one of those Hummer limos. He takes my hand as we descend the stairs, and open the car door to Stephen, pouring two glasses of champagne.

“I thought this was supposed to be semi formal!” I remark as I join him. He laughs.

“My car was in the shop,” he winks, handing me the glass. “To new adventures.”

“To new adventures.”

We arrive at the Gentlemen's Club, a lavish fountain and large marble pillars adorning its entrance. The driver drops us at the bottom of the staircase, already littered with couples fawning over each other. Young women on the arms of older men. I'm beginning to see what “common interests” we might share. I try not to judge, but it's hard to ignore the guttural response to stigmatize. I decide to take the challenge, looking to debunk the myths of this lifestyle tonight.

Stephen nods to several of the men as we pass by, continuing through the threshold, towards a large, plushly decorated ballroom. I try not to look too inexperienced, as I take in the vastness of the room.

“Impressive,” I say to him, almost under my breath.

“Only the best,” he shoots back, squeezing my hand. “Shall I obtain a round of drinks?”

“That would be lovely,” I say with a smile. He hands me his wallet, to put in my purse. The event, apparently, is all paid for. By a membership, perhaps?

“Please excuse me.” He unhooks his arm from mine, and starts towards the bartender, but is stopped by a man greeting him. I watch him get caught in the conversation, and self consciously scan the room. I'm not exactly in my element. I walk around tentatively, overhearing introductions between couples, and men talking stocks. I slow down near a small gathering of women, but turn around at the realization that they're speaking something Slavic. I observe several of the women speaking English in a group by the h'ors d'oeuvres, and decide to make the leap and go over. They all stop what they're saying, and look at me. I swallow.

“Hey, I'm Kat.”

“Ohh, fresh blood.”

“Stop it, Christine. I'm Dawn. This is Kelly, and Christine.” Dawn seems the most alpha of the group, with blonde hair that looks like it was set in large rollers. Kelly and Christine frame her, with straightened blonde locks. I notice that most of the room is blonde, despite anyone's origin.

“Nice to meet you,” I nod.

“New to this?”

“Yes! Is it that obvious?”

“Slightly. That outfit is busted. And you need your hair done.” At that, Christine says, “ouch” under her breath. “You're pretty hot, though. You have major potential.”

“Uh... thanks?”

“Sorry, I come across like a such a bitch sometimes! I can give you the name of my hair dresser if you want. I think I have his card in my purse.”

“Uh, sure. Thanks.”

“No worries! We have to look out for each other, you know? The Bowl is cut throat.” The Sugar Bowl. Got it.

“So, how long have you guys been... at it?”

“A couple years. I have three SD's right now, so I'm not paying for shit. Condo, car, food, wine, clothes, hair, nails... it's all covered. I'm living the life, baby! You know?”

“She's like, our idol,” Kelly finally pipes in.

“I'm doing alright,” Christine corrects her. “My Daddy wanted to buy me a fur coat, but I was like, that's gross!”

“That's great, Christine.” Dawn says sarcastically, at which Christine scoffs.

“Anyway, you got to work your way up, you know? Everybody's got to start somewhere.”

“Right. Well, I'm just going to try it out. Just for a couple months, probably.”

“That's what they all say. When you can finally quit your job waitressing at a shitty diner though, you'll be singing another tune.”

“Yeah. Well...”

“You'll see. And all you've got to do is give a couple blowjobs a week? Give me a break! Most girls are giving that shit away for free. SB's are smart, you know?”

“Mm hm,” I nod, feeling a little intimidated by her. And I thought I was direct. I look around for Stephen. Luckily, he catches my eye and waves me over. “Well, nice to meet you guys. Duty calls.”

“Good luck, girl.”

“You'll need it,” Christine says under her breath. Dawn smacks her on the arm.

“Stephen, hi!” I've never felt more relieved to be in his presence. He hands me a drink.

“Kat. I wanted you to meet a good friend of mine, Antonio.”

“Anthony,” He says, extending his hand. He's very handsome, barely forty, I would say, and quite tanned for this time of year. Most of the men here, I find, do not match the stereotypical Sugar Daddy of the internet. I don't see an old, unattractive, bald man in the room. “It's a pleasure.”

“Nice to meet you,” I nod and smile back.

“I understand you and Stephen have recently reached an agreement?”

“She's trying me out,” Stephen laughs. I have to admit that it's awkward to openly mention our ‘arrangement', but can't help but smile at the reversal.

“Any feedback you can give him?” Anthony jokes.

“He always dresses so informally,” I wink; very aware of the fun, clever image I must project. “He's really got to step it up a notch with the clothing.”

“Yes, Stephano! You look like you just rolled out of bed, my friend.”

“Ah! I know! I do clean up well, though. I swear!” We all laugh. In the silence afterwards, I glance at Stephen, and really take him in. The cut of the suit is very flattering to him, emphasizing his shoulders nicely. For the first time, I notice the silhouette of his tight butt through his pants. His patent leather shoes glisten. My eyes raise to meet his, looking at me warmly.

“Well! Don't let me interrupt you lovebirds. Very nice to have made your acquaintance, Kat.”

“You, as well!”

Slightly intoxicated and pleasantly full of exotic tapas, we find ourselves back in the Hummer. Stephen has his arm comfortably around me, and I relax into him, resting my head on his shoulder. It feels like I've taken a peak into a whole other world, and am trying to remain open about it.

“I hope the girls didn't scare you too badly,” he mentions.

“Oh no, I can hold my own. One of them was actually quite nice, in her own way.”

“Haha, that's a positive way of putting it.”

“Still, it was a little...” I start, before reminding myself of my place.

“Yes?”

“Well, it was... interesting. To be exposed to this... community.”

“Haha, another thoughtful statement, indeed. I suppose I forget that it can be a little intimidating, for someone such as yourself. I suspect that you'll learn the ropes rather quickly, though, if you choose to.” He pauses, looking up out the window. “This is my condo, here.” Stephen gestures as we pass by, continuing the drive towards my apartment, to drop me off. I watch the towering, modern looking building come and go out the tinted car window.

“May I see it?” Stephen signals to the driver, and we turn around.

The condo is modernly decorated as if out of the pages of a catalogue, and spotless. He encourages me to sit at a bar stool at the kitchen counter.

“How does it suit Kat the entrepreneur?”

“You have to stop calling me that,” I flirt.

“Why must I? It's what you are.”

“Not yet.”

“But it is. In several aspects, now.” I see what he means. My mind goes back to Dawn talking about the shrewdness of monetizing sex. There was something attractive in her boldness. Stephen removes his jacket, and busies himself with a bottle of liquor.

“I suppose I'd rather you call me that, than a struggling pastry chef living in a bachelor apartment.” Or another Sugar Baby, for that matter.

“I like to give you more credit than that! You're so much more. Here's to the great and significant things you will accomplish in your life, Kat.” At that, he hands me a small glass and clinks his against mine. We down the liquid in one gulp. “A tour?”

“Please!” I catapult myself off the chair, feeling a renewed tipsiness. We walk through the spacious living and dining room, to a guest room and ensuite bathroom, complete with walk in wardrobe, and jacuzzi tub. We peek in an office, only slightly more disorganized than the rest of the condo. This looks like the only room that actually gets used on a regular basis. The rest could be a freshly made up hotel. Which brings us to Stephen's bedroom.

“Do you even use your bed?”

“Sometimes, I do. Yes.”

“So, you have another house?”

“Mm hm, I do.”

“Ahh. The mystery is unravelling,” I say, turning my attention from the room, to him. We're standing very close to one another, and I continue to gaze at him, blissfully, stupidly smiling. He turns his face towards mine.

“Am I such an enigma?”

“I haven't decided yet,” I say, just before I lean in, our lips meeting for the first time. Mine are slightly numb from the booze, but his are immaculate. A very close shave makes his mouth incredibly soft, yet powerful in the way it works over my lips. He kisses me back aggressively, his mouth tasting of the sweetness of alcohol, and I instantly feel myself moisten. I press our clothed bodies into each other, my arms draped around his shoulders, and I feel the beginning of a bulge hitting me slightly in the stomach. Forever the gentleman, he waits for my cue to continue; luckily the booze gives me a boost of confidence that allows me to unbutton his shirt as we kiss. I even give him the tip of my tongue, darting it teasingly into his mouth as I do so. I feel him smile, no doubt amused by my sudden burst of lust. Wearing no underwear, as my dress technically is underwear, my nipples visibly harden through it, and as I press my pelvis into his leg, it registers that I may be wetting the front of it as well. Despite my desperate need, for I haven't slept with someone since my last boyfriend, I carefully peel his shirt from his shoulders, respectful of how expensive it might be. We kick off our shoes. Unbuckling his belt might be a bigger step than I'm ready for at the moment, but I have no issue with pulling my entire dress over my head, revealing my naked body. I've always been confident about it, and have always been rather lean and athletic, despite my larger breasts, which I usually cram into a sports bra. In fact, I was secretly awaiting the moment to reveal it to him.

“You're right,” Stephen says under his breath. “I definitely need to start calling you something else.” I pull him towards me, as I sit, then lay onto the bedspread. He obediently follows, leaning over me with his lips moving from my mouth, to my neck, down my chest, to my breasts. He positively worships them, taking his time in licking the nipples, massaging them in his hands, and open mouthed kissing the entirety of them, all the way till he's practically under my arms. Which he kisses, as well. He takes each arm, encouraging them to relax in a position over my head, as he licks the undersides of each of them. I continue to press my hips into him, now very clearly feeling his erection through his pants as I do so.

“How about goddess?” He ponders, moving down my stomach, to my pussy.

“Mmmm,” I moan, not at all expecting this type of sex from our arrangement. He teases me, mercilessly kissing the top of my mound, my hipbones, down to my thighs, the insides of my legs, to right beside my throbbing slit. I swear, I feel myself drip onto the bed. I moan impatiently, and he smiles up at me.