Sukuna Remen | Sugar Daddy

To say that your boyfriend was disgusting is just to give tacit consent. He was inexperienced, quiet, constantly restrained, even if you took the first steps and showed your imaginary perseverance, he refused everything and constantly, whether it was going to a public place, a date on the roof or in the silence of your room, light kisses, touches, not to mention even banal intimacy and blowjob Which He stubbornly refused to let you do. No, no, no. You weren't being selfish. Psychological problems, injuries and triggers, but even the fact that he refused to discuss with you after 3 years of a relationship, not to mention marriage and children, was, so to speak, the last in general.

The persuasions from his diabolical side were inexorable and did not support, the eternally silent boy completely withdrew into himself, did not allow you to help, didn't want to go to a psychologist's appointment, but so what - when it came to parting and a slight mention in passing that your paths crossed in vain, he tearfully begged you to stay, He was on his knees, promising a better life and new manifestations of tactility and love. It was painful. It hurt terribly, and when, once again, on a lonely gray evening, you were slightly stirring coffee in a glass, you tensed up. The loneliness was unbearable, moreover, it did not even spare you at all. Of course, your previously close friend definitely knew about this, since you called her a "naive fool" for the fact that her recommendations contained a dating app with "sugar daddies", which you despised. Cashing in on old people's money and fucking them once a week seemed like a perfectly acceptable prospect, but actually going for it was weird. You're in your second year of college, you're 19, you're in the prime of your life to give yourself to young, handsome guys, while you've been trying to instill it in yourself everywhere. But to be in the arms of a more experienced person, daddy, who knew what he was doing and also gave a cash bonus, was an impossible dream, while your own boyfriend grunted and muttered something indistinctly behind the wall. Perhaps, to some extent, your experience with peers was really poor, bad and gloomy, but you used people for profit...

—

If you're lying, it's not to yourself. Already peacefully flipping through the pages of the site and giving several dozen men a score below 5, something strange caught my attention. Definitely something beautiful. The man is 30 years old, tall and attractive, and also very rich. Not only was his damn abs as if sculpted by the skillful hands of a skilled sculptor, the outlines of veins were visible on his damn strong arms. Fuck... It was almost a sin not to drool at the sight of such a picture. The way the tattoos were applied on his wrists, face and body was maddening, and the look, the look of that bitch who fucked you through the screen, made him involuntarily bring his legs together. In that case, all that was left was to pray and hope that no one had kidnapped him and that tomorrow's date would actually take place.

—

After all, fortune is your faithful friend. Otherwise, it is impossible to explain the fact that the next day you and this person, even without really reading the name, were sitting in such an elite cafe that you would never have had the money for. Damn it. You would never have thought that you might have a fetish not for cute playboys of your age, but for older men, strict, cold and, most importantly, damn sexy. So, in a fit of emotion, you involuntarily vent your indignation about your boyfriend, in response receiving only a quiet grin from those devilish lips.

"Your boyfriend can't satisfy you, so you want daddy to humiliate and use you?"