Sally's Sugar Daddy.pdf
Sample: Sally’s Sugar Daddy
I
Sally stood in the hallway of her apartment building, digging through her purse for her keys. Feeling the cold metal on her fingertips, the gorgeous Asian woman pulled the keys from her bag, slid one into the lock, and swung the door open. Stepping into her dark, empty apartment, Sally fumbled for the wall switch and flipped it on. Kicking her low black heels into a corner with the others piled there, Sally pulled the door shut behind her.
Another crappy first date.
It was the third such date this month alone. In her mind, Sally replayed all her ‘red flags’ from the evening.
“Charles” wore small hoop earrings in each ear, and his salt-and-pepper hair was more salt than pepper. Sally didn’t mind either of those things per se— she often pursued older men. They tended to be a little more old-fashioned, a little more mature, in all the best ways.
Sally stepped into her living room. The walls were bare, but the room was clean. She unfastened her skirt and let it drop to the floor.
The night started poorly when Charles suggested they meet at the restaurant instead of picking her up. Then he’d spent the whole evening talking about his crypto portfolio, never asking Sally anything about herself.
Sally unbuttoned her short navy blazer and tossed it over a nearby chair.
When she’d handed Charles her phone and asked him to take a picture of her, he’d grimaced, mumbling about working her older smartphone.
“Make sure to get all our food in the frame,“ she’d said. The man actually rolled his eyes.
Sally ducked into her bedroom to grab a pair of baggy sleep pants and an oversized T-shirt.
Sally tried to enjoy the food during their meal while Charles yammered about random tech celebrities and their ‘endorsements.’ When she asked if they could get more wine, he’d quirked one eyebrow at her like an uptight, WASPy mother-in-law.
Sally undid the buttons on her low-necked blouse in dusty rose. She knew full well that her healthy breasts were two of her best features and often showed them off in photos or on first dates.
Slipping on her sleep pants, Sally tossed the blouse on the chair with her blazer. She popped the loose tee shirt over her head, pulling out her glossy black hair to let it hang halfway down her back.
The coup de grâce had come at the end when Charles suggested they split the check. Not only was the man so fucking judgmental that he’d made disapproving noises and ‘looks’ at her while she ate — instead of appreciating her cleavage — he didn’t even have the decency to offer to pick up the check!
Undoing the hooks on her 34G bra, Sally slipped the large undergarment from under her sleep shirt and tossed it onto the chair with the rest of her date outfit. She draped herself across the couch with an exasperated sigh and flipped on the TV. She considered ordering a late-night snack to ease her lousy mood; but remembered with annoyance that covering her share of dinner had tapped out her budget for the week.
Suffice it to say Sally did not consider herself a feminist. Sure, she appreciated the opportunities in life that her mother or grandmother never got, but did those things have to come at the expense of chivalry? All Sally wanted with a nice man with a good job who would treat her right… Maybe even spoil her a little. Was that too much to ask?