A few weeks after our disastrous weekend in Torquay (see previous blog), I meet Ray at a country pub. I can’t say I’m overly enthusiastic about seeing him again, but I feel sorry for him, so there I am.
It’s a beautiful evening, so we sit outside reminiscing over our weekend away; and because it’s been on my mind (and clearly bothering me) I ask why he drank so much the night before, knowing he had a long drive the next day. He doesn’t have an answer, just explains that when he’s not working, he’ll sometimes go to the pub at lunchtime, spend the afternoon drinking, then come home and continue until he passes out. I ask whether he has an issue with alcohol, something I’ve suspected since we first met. He thinks he might, which is a good sign… not that he has an issue, but that he’s aware of it obviously.
I try to explain the negative impact his drinking had on our time together, the fact that he’d spent the majority of the weekend feeling exhausted and hungover, or on a mission to get drunk.
He doesn’t take this well and is worried I didn’t have a good time, to which I reluctantly admit that it wasn’t great. As I’m being honest, I also mention how embarrassing, inappropriate and offensive I’d found a few of his comments, and how they’d come across as sexist and racist (because they were).
Things are a little tense now; he asks whether I even like him and want to see him again. In an attempt to rescue the situation, I assure him that I don’t dislike his company, but that two nights together was too much; however, this just makes things worse.
He starts chuntering on about another woman he’s messaging, who’s younger than me, really good looking and highly intelligent. He’s going to meet her since I’m not into him; maybe she’ll love him as I obviously don’t (and in my defence never said was going to).
I’m not sure whether any of this is true, or he’s saying it to upset me; either way it doesn’t work. I’m just amused he thinks a young attractive intelligent woman is going to fall for him. He doesn’t understand that most women on sugar daddy/ escorting sites (myself included) are not looking for a romantic relationship, they’re there to do a job and make money; expecting anything else is asking to get hurt. Other than money (which he doesn’t really have) he hasn’t got much to offer; he can’t look after himself let alone anyone else. The sad truth is that he’s lonely, vulnerable and desperate; however, paying women out of his league in the hope that they’ll fall for him is not the answer.
I suggest he leave young women alone and look for someone his own age if he wants a relationship; but he doesn’t fancy older women (quelle surprise), he wants someone bright, young and attractive. The poor guy is deluded; he’s never going to get a ‘trophy girlfriend’… you can’t buy love (not with his funds anyway).
We have an incredibly awkward meal together, where he doesn’t eat much but drinks plenty; he’s trying to act like everything’s ok, but I can tell he’s feeling bitter and resentful. Having had a few drinks myself, I’m unable to drive so have no other choice than to ‘make it work’. We have a few nightcaps at the bar; he’s drunk and chatting to other people, making passive aggressive comments about me.
By the time we get to our room I’ve had enough, so tell him that I’ll sleep in my car. He’s insisting I sleep in the bed, and that he’ll sleep on the floor; I tell him not to be silly, he’s an old man with a bad back, I can’t let him do that.
He’s adamant that I stay and storms into the bathroom. I know he won’t try anything (he’s too drunk for one thing), but I’m not staying; so, grabbing my bag I head back to the pub. I’m not sure what I’m going to do, but I’m not spending another minute with him.
There are a couple of workmen at the end of the bar, I spotted them earlier and noticed them checking me out; I head over and ask the friendlier looking one to keep an eye on my bag whilst I go to the toilet. I stand at the sink trying not to cry; cursing myself for being unable to hold my tongue.
Whilst I’m there giving myself a pep talk, a young couple burst through the door. I tell them to ignore me, and they disappear into a cubicle together; I don’t know what they’re doing, but I’m still there when they come out. They ask what’s wrong; they’d spotted me in the pub earlier with Ray and had been wondering what was going on.
I explain that I was being paid to spend the night with him but had had a bad time. The guy gives me a funny look, he clearly doesn’t approve; I’m not going to justify myself to him though, I just want to be left alone. I reassure them that I’m ok, just having a ‘bad day at the office’, and they disappear.
I know Ray will come looking for me, so stay in the toilet until the coast is clear. On returning to the bar, I’m told that Ray had been in but buggered off when he couldn’t find me.
The guys at the bar are from Ireland, but in Cornwall working on a new dual carriageway. They can see I’m a bit shaken up and ask whether Ray had been abusive in some way. I explain the situation and how we’d fallen out. The young guy who’d been in the toilet earlier was at the other end of the bar; and overhearing the conversation made a comment, something along the lines of it being my own fault and that I only had myself to blame. This upsets me, and I tell him to mind his own business; everyone in the pub is staring at me as I start to cry, I feel like a complete idiot.
The Irish guys calm me down, buy me a stiff drink; and everyone goes back to their own conversations. I reassure my new friends that I’ll be fine, I’ll sleep in my car and head home in the morning. They don’t like the idea of me being alone though, so offer to take me back with them; they’re staying in caravans a mile from the pub, I can crash there.
The barman (who’d taken an interest) reassures me that they’re only up the road, and the guys promise to drop me back in the morning. With nothing to lose and not averse to jumping into cars with strange men, I agree to go back with them.
The makeshift worksite where they’re staying has a row of shabby looking caravans down one side and big trucks down the other. The caravan has no electricity, and is pretty basic, but I don’t mind; it’s warm and dry, and I feel safe.
The men crack open a six pack and find some gin. The slimmer guy, who’s caravan I’m in, goes out for a fag, leaving me alone with the larger of the two guys; the one I asked to look after my bag. I like him, I think he’s nice and I’m grateful he’s rescued me, so don’t mind when he slides his hand between my legs and starts stroking my pussy through my panties. After a while I remove them, allowing him to fully explore me. He’s an older guy, maybe in his 50s, probably with a wife and kids at home, but they’re in Ireland and I’m here. I know I’m never going to see him again and this is a one off, so I lie back and relax, wanting so badly to come for him. My body doesn’t disappoint, and his skilful fingers bring me to a climax, making me squirt all over the bed; once he’s finished, he goes back to his caravan.
When his mate returns, I wonder whether he’ll try anything on, but he doesn’t; we just lie there chatting until we fall asleep. In the morning, true to his word, he drives me back to the pub and my car; thankfully Ray is nowhere to be seen.
For a while I remembered their names, but now I’ve forgotten; they’re just two random strangers who came to my rescue. It’s unlikely they’ll ever read this, but if they do, then I hope they know how grateful I am; however next time they can pay like everyone else…
Emily-Rose xxx
Read about our trip to Torquay here
Sugar and Spice 
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