I’m currently writing a memoir of my experiences with “salt dating” – signing up for a sugar daddy website when you’re not actually rich but reaping the rewards anyway.

 

I wanted to see what the hell was going on in that world. So I stumbled into a very strange place where I found myself doing morally questionable things to sleep with women of questionable behavior. I learned a lot from the experiences.

 

Below is an excerpt of the book. I hope to have it completed by the end of the year.

 


 

Lauren was new to the site. Her profile revealed she had signed up only a few days prior to my discovery of her. The main picture was of her backside. A full body shot of a  young woman with long straight brown hair flowing down past her red shirt and blue jeans. The photo revealed only the tiniest sliver of a face but a full view of her ass.

 

I wanted to see more.

 

I hit her with my standard opener and she granted access to two private pictures that didn’t reveal much more of her. I asked her to email me a few more pictures. I saw a girl who was timid and I could tell she approached the whole sugar baby idea with minor trepidation. But experience had taught me by this point that this was in fact the best mentality for a girl to possess.

 

She wasn’t a pro. She hadn’t been pumped and dumped by a dozen players similar to myself. She was a blank slate. She was fresh fruit ripe for the plucking. She didn’t know what she was doing.

 

Curiosity consumed her. I was inundated with inquiry as to how I acquired my “wealth” and why I was on the site despite being so young.

 

We played a little guessing game where she texted me a long list of Silicon Valley heavyweights and begged me to tell her which one I was associated with, since my profile hinted that I helped co-found one. 

 

I gave her just enough to satisfy a little piece of her while keeping the curiosity burning strong.

 

“You’ve named it already, but I’m not telling you which one.”

 

For the date, I picked a classy Tapas restaurant with a rooftop bar complete with city view. A change of pace from my standard Irish pub or Turkish hookah bar.

 

The day arrived and she got cold feet.

 

“I’m having second thoughts, you’re too young for SeekingArrangement.. this can’t be legit.”

 

I welcomed the challenge of overcoming her skepticism. This whole scam was getting too easy anyways.

 

She continued

 

“I feel like you’re not real. I think I’m talking to a 70 year old man who’s going to lure me into his fancy mansion that he bought with his app money.. and naturally murder me.”

 

A weak man would have bought into her frame and tried to convince her of his sincerity and her safety. But Donovan Chase was not a weak man. He knew to stay aloof. (Donovan Chase was the name I chose for my sugar daddy identity.)

 

I doubled down on her accusation with one minor correction.

 

“*65 year old man.. Everything else you said was accurate though.”

 

I told her I wasn’t going to beg her to meet me out and it’s up to her if she wanted to meet.

 

“So are you like the 50 Shades of Grey guy?”

 

“Yes, bring whatever submissive toys you have”

 

“You’re supposed to have like a sex room, right?”

 

“It’s more of a dungeon”

 

“Hahaha alright I’m still in.”

 

I guess I said all the right things.

 

We met at the front door. Lauren wore black shorts and a light blue pinstripe blouse revealing a hint of cleavage. A pair of dark rimmed glasses was all that she needed to have nailed the sexy secretary look.

 

Her Basic-White-Girlism was made clear by her infatuation with my fabricated status. It always seemed to be the brand-worshipping white girls who fell hardest for the allure of money and fame.

 

She arrived to the date still with a hint of skepticism in tow and asked lots of prying questions into the origin of my money that didn’t exist.

 

Our conversation was pretty normal for the first 30 minutes before her barrage of nosy questions reared its ugly head again.

 

I had begun to loosen up from an overpriced craft IPA and the lies flowed from my mouth so convincingly and naturally this time that I almost fooled myself.

 

“Yeah, I grew up here in Georgia but being born in California, I was family friends with <insert name of 20-something billionaire> so we hung out a lot in the summers when I would go visit. When we were in college we’d always spitball ideas of different apps. Since we go way back and I helped him with a small piece, he rewarded me when the app exploded and took off.”

 

“But I don’t get it, why do young, good-looking guys spend money like this to get girls? I mean you seem funny and normal. I would date you normally. The guys on that site are so old and desperate – you’re nothing like them.”

 

She was pressing me more than any of the other girls had. My creative faculties and improvisational skills were put to the test.

 

“Well, it seems to be all the rage in Silicon Valley right now so I’m just curious about it. And from the talks I’ve had with different guys out there, it’s not really that they pay because they have to. It’s more about just being nice and generous. Ya know, you find a girl that you like and it’s not that you’re paying her to have sex. You’re hanging out with her and enjoying your time and you just decide to throw her a little bit because you’re just being nice and generous.”

 

A look of satisfaction spread across her face. All questions and concerns had been satiated. The walls came down and the date proceeded normally with no further objections.

 

I got cocky and had fun with it. I used my extensive knowledge of the history of the app I had acquired from reading up on Wikipedia to weave an elaborate web of lies regarding my involvement in the early stages of the company’s development. Even going so far as to say I played a role in the app’s renaming and rebranding process.

 

To my surprise, she had done her own Googling and Wikipedia research of the company so my story continued to check out.

 

She was sold.

 

I whisked her off to my apartment so she could “sober up” and watch a TV show that I had talked up earlier in the date.

 

I gave her the tour of my apartment, ending in the bedroom. I came up from behind and put my hands around her waist and started kissing her neck. She turned towards me to kiss and I tossed her onto the bed.

 

We quickly jumped out of our clothes and had one of the best fucks I had ever squeezed out of the glorious racket of salt dating. I manhandled her and dominated her in bed in a way I never had before in my past life. I pulled. I pushed. I spanked. I said things like, “Yeah, you like it when fuck your little pussy like that?” and “Yeah, you better fucking like that my little slut” I finished her off doggystyle, pulling out and blasting my load onto her back. I threw a towel on her and strutted into the bathroom feeling like a king. When I walked out she already getting dressed. But then I grabbed her, ripped off her clothes, and fucked her once more this time cumming on her tits.

 

I became my alter-ego that night. I had played a role worthy of an Oscar. I had learned what it meant for an actor to actually become the role he was playing. I wasn’t myself anymore. I had become Donovan Chase.

 

Lauren was a good fuck, as basic a white girl as she was. I was even up for a second round with her a few days later, something I usually didn’t have time for as there were just too many other girls to lay.

 

She texted me to come over to her house and enticed me with sexy pics, marijuana edibles, and good sex. But then hit me with, “But we’re not fucking until I see some of that money.”

 

I looked down at my phone and raised an eyebrow. Funny. This was a buyer’s market and it was grossly overcrowded with what she was selling. I deleted her from my inbox and began locking in dates for the coming week.

 

 

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  • Selene Dawson

    Awesome work. When will be ready?