MY SUGAR DADDY

was exactly what he wanted. His cell phone buzzed, reminding him he needed to get back to the office. "I'll e-mail you my schedule," she said. She was already dressed, her hair back in a

." "That's right." "Why?" "You needed the money. I don't want to have to worry about you being on th

er, she threw it onto the floor and went to the mirror, removing her clothing and seeing the marks on her hips from where he'd held her. Her pussy was tender, and her feelings

enjoyed listening to him, even if he was blunt and to the point. He didn't leave any room to misinterpret what he wanted. Just thinking about his instructions to get

talking about her feelings was something she'd gotten out of the habit doing a long time ago. Her psychology professor warned her that being able to talk was as equally important as being able to listen. Patients sometimes wanted to hear your own personal experiences. She wasn't abused or an

get it right and not screw people up in the process. Her professors told her she overthought everything. With worrying about money, working, and studying, she didn't really have much time to think about anything else. Pushing those thoughts and fears aside, she took a quick shower. Then she wrapped a towel around

cell phone over to see it was Daniel calling. "Hello," she said. "You don't have to sound so shocked that I'm calling you." "Did my attachment not open?" she asked. He'd given her the rules that he wasn't looking for a relationship, and neither

mmitment. "It did." She frowned. "Then what's the problem?" Daniel burst out laughing, and she cou