Every now and then I’m contacted by a guy who’s taken a wrong turn and accidentally signed up to a sugar daddy site; wondering why (despite having no luck in the past) they’re being bombarded with messages from attractive women who are way out of their league.
This guy was one of those guys, naive and clueless, coming up to 50 and living at home with dad on the farm; never married, unable to get a date, and probably still a virgin (though maybe I’m being harsh).
Thankfully I got to him just after he’d signed up, before too much damage had been done (new guys are easy prey for less honest girls on the site). Despite not realising what he’d signed up for, and being slightly shocked by it all, he still wanted to meet; saying that he wasn’t against the idea of paying for female company or sex. His photo wasn’t great; but I’m nothing if not optimistic, so agreed to meet for coffee.
When I arrived at the agreed location, I walked straight past him, that’s how dodgy his picture was and how rough he looked. He was wearing old dirty work clothes and had come straight from the farm, you’d have thought he might have made an effort, but apparently not. My heart sank, my optimism had been misplaced, he looked like a fricking hillbilly; it sank further when he started talking in a thick west country accent about the farm, which was all he had to talk about.
We had our coffee though, and he enjoyed our time together and thought I was gorgeous… obviously. He’d led a very sheltered life, and didn’t get away from the farm very often. I felt sorry for him, so feeling generous, let him go in for a little kiss and a quick grope; which was probably the most action he’d had in years.
I explained the deal, that if he wanted to see me again he’d need to rent a room and pay for my company (his place wasn’t an option, and there was no way he was coming to mine); and although he still seemed hopeful (delusional) that he might get a girlfriend out of it, he understood the situation and agreed to my terms.
Before arranging our next meeting, he asked for some saucy photos, which I sent him, thinking it might encourage him to book somewhere and part with some money. I didn’t ask for anything in return, yet despite this, was treated to a couple of photos of the biggest cock I’ve ever seen; it really was a sight for sore eyes, and potentially a rather sore pussy.
When we arranged to meet the following week, he couldn’t get away for the night, but was keen to see me, so we arranged to go for a drive and see how far we could get in his car. Not how I usually do things, but for some reason (against my better judgement) I said yes; possibly the thought of his massive cock had something to do with it…
We met in a local carpark, where I jumped out of my car, and into his. Now, I’ve been in some dirty cars in my time and mine isn’t exactly clean, but his was absolutely disgusting; every surface covered in mud or shit, and rubbish everywhere, it was gross! He didn’t look much better, in dirty farm clothes, and a holey jumper which he had on inside out; I wasn’t impressed!
We drove around looking for somewhere quiet to stop, and eventually found a secluded parking area, which was empty but for one car. Unfortunately, there was a man in that car, however he didn’t complain so I can only assume he enjoyed the show. Should have charged him too really…
We got into the back of the car, which wasn’t easy with the amount of crap back there. I pulled off my panties and spread my legs, showing him what he was paying for and inviting him to take a closer look. I don’t think he could believe his luck, his hands were all over me, pulling my top down, groping and sucking my tits like a randy teenager. As for what he was doing down there, fuck knows, but whatever it was, it wasn’t doing anything for me.
As I leaned over to place my hand on his crotch, he got a bit funny and told me that he had a confession to make; the pictures he’d sent weren’t of him, he’d taken them off the internet. He then pulled down his dirty jeans, revealing some very old and suspiciously stained pants; which were then pulled down to reveal one of the tiniest, and saddest looking cocks I’d ever seen. It was like a sick magic trick, with every layer that came off, revealing something more revolting.
I was annoyed that he’d lied to me and lured me there under false pretences, although I was also a bit disappointed, I’m not going to lie…. I had no choice other than to be professional though and reassure him that it was fine; size didn’t matter, and the pictures he’d sent me were ridiculously big anyway (which they were). Saying all this whilst using my thumb and two fingers (all I could fit on his tiny cock) to encourage it to come out and play, which it didn’t seem to want to, probably too embarrassed!
He then apologised for not having had a shower that day, explaining that they had no hot water; before suggesting that I put his tiny smelly cock in my mouth to see if that helped the situation. I didn’t have the heart (or strength of character) to say no, so I did; checking for dick cheese first and being conscious not to breathe through my nose.
Not much happened, so as soon as I thought I’d done enough to show willing, I suggested that we get out of there before someone caught us and did us for indecent exposure.
On the drive back I asked him why he’d sent pictures that weren’t of him. I hadn’t asked him to send any, so why send anything at all. His answer was, “it got you interested though, didn’t it”, which really pissed me off.
He knew that we were going to meet, and that I’d find out the truth; how did he think he’d get away with it. Also, why put yourself in that awkward and embarrassing situation in the first place; men are so stupid sometimes…
The most annoying thing was that he didn’t think he’d done anything wrong, and felt that his actions were justified; which is weird as when we first met, he mentioned how he disliked people who were dishonest or fake… Rather ironic, don’t you think…
When I got home, I stripped, put my clothes in the wash and scrubbed myself clean in the shower; after which I updated my spreadsheet, highlighting his name in red, and vowing to never go there again.
It’s worth mentioning that this (like so many disasters) was at the beginning of my career, when I didn’t really know what I was doing, and was chasing money at any cost; I’m more cautious now.
The lesson here is that if something sounds or looks too good to be true, then it probably is.
Emily-Rose xxx
Sugar and Spice 