How a Sugar Daddy Taught Me to Call the Shots in My Relationships with Men: Part 1

A month after Derrick—my older, mar­ried lover—left me, I finally called Josh, the younger man I had secretly been see­ing at the same time. I explained that I was going through some life-changing events, and that I had wanted some time alone to get back on my feet. I apol­o­gized for dis­ap­pear­ing, but assured him that I had needed the time away from him to see if my feel­ings were true. To my sur­prise, he was very under­stand­ing and for­gave me right away.

Shortly after that con­ver­sa­tion, Josh and I were monog­a­mously dat­ing. Life with my new man was every­thing that I had hoped I would some­day have with Der­rick, minus the money of course.  He treated me well and gave me every­thing I needed and wanted. It was dif­fer­ent from the rela­tion­ship I had with Der­rick. Josh didn’t buy me expen­sive gifts, but he did give me the time and affec­tion that I needed. He slept in the same bed as me every night.

At this time, I was still liv­ing at the house that Der­rick had bought for me, drove the Mer­cedes he gave me, and the bills were still being paid for me. The only thing that had really changed was that I wasn’t receiv­ing expen­sive gifts, although this didn’t really mat­ter much to me. I was happy in my new rela­tion­ship with Josh, and that I was still being finan­cially taken care of by Derrick—it was the best of both worlds.

About six months after Der­rick and I broke up, I was sit­ting alone in the liv­ing room watch­ing TV when the door­bell rang. My ini­tial reac­tion was fear—Josh was out of town with some of his friends and I rarely had unin­vited vis­i­tors. When I looked through the peep­hole, my body felt like it had just been jolted back to life. I felt an over­whelm­ing sense of joy run through my veins. With­out think­ing twice, I opened the door and instinc­tively wrapped my arms around Der­rick, and then kissed him pas­sion­ately. And then I came to my senses. “I’m so sorry,” I said as I released him and took a step back. “I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Der­rick smiled, pulled me towards him, and just like old times, he touched me in all the right places. His hands felt young again, his hair looked less gray, his face looked less wrin­kled, and his tongue felt more expe­ri­enced than ever before. He swept me off my feet and car­ried me upstairs, like he had done when we first started dat­ing. He undressed me slowly, keep­ing his eyes con­stantly fixed on mine. When he caressed my face, I was breath­less, taken aback by the pas­sion in his touch and the mem­ory of what we used to have together. I licked my lips, gazed into his eyes, and lost myself in his love. That night, as I had sex with Der­rick again, I did not think of Josh once.

As incred­i­ble as it felt to have Der­rick back, a part of me knew that we’d even­tu­ally have to get up and face real­ity. Or did we…?