PREFACE

It started out as a one time thing.

At least, that's what I liked to tell myself.

The sugarbaby-ing.

I hadn't planned on making a career out of it or anything. I just needed to make ends meet and fast. My part time job at Target wasn't cutting it. With tough classes during the day at school, and studying and homework outside of class, I couldn't muster up enough time or energy to work the hours needed to pay my bills. There was tuition and the shitty payment plan I had due every month for college. There was my rent for my student apartment. There was groceries. School books. Car payments. My cellphone bill.

Shit on top of shit, on top of well, more shit.

I was tired of being broke.

I was tired of struggling.

After watching a rerun of MTV's True life on sugar babies late one night, I got an idea. What the heck, I thought. What do I really have to lose? Besides my dignity...and self respect.

Those were small prices to pay for the money I could possibly be making. I found a website. . I made an account, and the money sort of just started rolling in from there.

There were little things I didn't mind doing.

Texting a guy throughout an entire week for fifty bucks. Skyping someone in my spare time. Sending someone tit pics. No big deal, right? Easy peezy. Peace of cake.

Those were things I could do without my conscience screaming at me all the time or guilt tripping me. I could sleep peacefully at night without really questioning what had happened to my morals. These were things I could do with a guy without being paid money...so why not do them for a little extra cash? Lord knows, I needed it.

Everything was going smoothly until one little question kept popping up here and there. Well, actually everywhere. With every sugar daddy.

Sex.

What's a sugar baby without sex? It was usually the dealbreaker for most guys. Once they realized I wouldn't go any further than going on a few dates and sending out nudes, they eventually dropped me, and it was on to the next client who was willing to satisfy their sexual needs. I was fine with that…

I wasn't quite ready to sell my body for money.

I mean that would make me a prostitute, right?

What would I tell my future husband?

And geez, what would happen to my body count? I was doing just fine with three guys under my belt. I was a sophomore in college. Twenty years old. That number sat well with me. Three guys, and one girl…(I didn't really like to count her).

Eventually, I grew some balls. A metaphorical pair of course.

I had a really nice sugar daddy named, Ted. He was sweet. He was young. And he was attractive. I mean, really attractive with tan skin, sparkling brown eyes, and sexy blonde hair.

I was so used to old men. Old wrinkly men. Usually white males. Usually in the age range of about 50 and 60. I didn't mind...I wasn't sleeping with them.

Ted, however caught me off guard. He was in his early thirties.

I often found myself wondering what he needed a sugar baby for. He was nice, and he was hot. I don't know how he couldn't pick up girls on his own. If I was the bold type, and I saw him in a coffee shop, I'd have slipped him my number on a napkin or something.

We went out on what felt like real, normal dates. He took me to see a scary movie once. He flew me out of North Carolina to Atlanta to eat at Benihana. It was the first time I'd been on a plane and had left the comfort of the small southern state I'd been in my whole life. He got my nails done, and he paid for me to get these fancy brazilian blow outs on my hair. We had long deep and meaningful talks about life and plans for the future. Not a future together or anything like that, but still, I felt like I connected with Ted on an intimate level. I felt like we were friends. If it were a normal circumstance, I'd have even called him my boyfriend.

After about two months of smooth sailing with Ted, I had sex with him. I hadn't planned on it. It just sort of happened. In the moment, it felt right. I forgot that Ted wasn't actually my boyfriend. He was my sugar daddy, and that realization hit me hard when the next day, I had a thousand dollar check in the mail, thanking me for my services.

I never heard from him again.

I was sad for a while… as sad as a girl can be with one grand in her pocket. Needless to say, I got over it. I got over Ted. Life went on.

Sugarbaby-ing went on.

Until, well, it didn't anymore.

Then came the escort service.

The high class escort service Risque where I met plenty more Ted's. They were big spenders, and a lot less needy than the sugar daddies I'd met on the site. The really great thing about the escort service I stumbled upon was that these engagements only lasted for a night or two. At most, a weekend of my time. Sometimes I slept with them. Sometimes I didn't. Sometimes, I had reoccurring clients, and sometimes I never saw the guys ever again.

Surprisingly, I was fine with that.

It's amazing what money can do to a person.

It's amazing what money did to me.

AN: I was on the verge of taking a nap...and this story idea popped into my head. This story is not to be taken seriously. It's just for fun, so please don't bash me. I don't really know anything about being a sugar baby or an escort...I've heard a few stories... I'll do some research if I end up committing to this. It's just a beginning. Tell me what you think!