SB Fashion

Over the (omg, has it really been that long?) four years since I first entered the sugar world, I've had to pick up some tricks in order to stay on top of my game. I realize looking back over this blog that a lot of my posts are about what an SD should and shouldn't do, so I've decided to start speaking to my sisters in sugar.

So, we're starting with clothing. I'm no fashionista, but I do love and respect clothes and the power they have.

As SBs, our goal is to attract men. We want them to be thinking about us naked, thinking about how much fun they could be having with us. However, we don't want to broadcast that to the rest of the world.

My SB 'uniform' of sorts is a J Crew v-neck cashmere sweater, dark wash jeans, and pointy-toed kitten heels. Heels are a must, for the sound they make on the floor and the general polish they give to a look. I'm tall, so I stick with kitten heels so as not to be intimidating.

If this isn't a first meeting, then the point of the outfit should be that it is sexy, but not overly so, and easy to take off while still looking sexy. Lots of layers or buttons and too tight jeans don't come off in a sexy way. I test an outfit by watching myself take it off in the mirror to see if I look ridiculous. A thin sweater is ideal.

I have in the past been a bit more 'business casual,' depending on what the SD needed, as far as discretion goes. In those cases I lean towards a nice shell and cardigan with black or gray dress pants. J Crew, Ann Taylor, Banana Republic are all good.

Accessories should be kept to a minimum. I have a pretty big bag that I like. It's nice to have room for a pair of flip flops for the walk home or other little things.

Also, a word on girl style versus guy style. That cute shirt dress, those ankle boots? That's girl style. A v-neck tee, tight jeans? That's guy style. An SB needs to dress for guy style. This means low cut, accentuates the waist, flattering clothes. Girl style is trendy and often not very figure-flattering. Save that for going to school or shopping. Guys just don't get leggings or chunky necklaces, even if they are the hot new thing!

A little too close for comfort

Another story from my past...

I met up with a potential for a quick Starbucks meeting. He was a little late, but had a good excuse, so I let it go. He was charming, witty, handsome, and we had a lot in common. What more could I ask for?

Well, it turns out we had a LOT in common.

I had friends who were alums of his children's grade school. We worked in the same industry. In fact, he knew my boss.

We both played it cool. I think he knew that he had more to lose than I did, but it still scared me! He kept pointing out how the whole '5-degrees of separation' thing clearly was more like 1-degree for us.

He pursued me after the first date, but I sent him a quick email saying it simply wasn't a good fit.

It's amazing how a big city can actually be ridiculously small when you narrow it down to certain circles. A bit scary, to be honest. I now always ask specific questions about a potentials career and stay away from anyone too close to mine!

Baby Steps

I often get asked by potentials how I even thought up being an SB. How did the idea enter into my pretty little head? It's actually a rather interesting story, although this certainly isn't what I tell potentials. Not that I advocate lying... but that's a whole other topic!

It was a confluence of events. Of course, Belle de Jour had already planted the seeds of sex for pay in my mind back in high school. I had a glamorized vision of being a prostitute. Granted, Belle was very lucky, very high end, and worked in England where the legal situation is quite different.

When I first started college I thought about selling/donating my eggs to an infertile couple. I'm quite the catch as far as egg donors go apparently, but as I mentioned before , I absolutely refuse to inflict any unnecessary pain on myself, so twice daily injections for a couple of months wasn't in the cards.

I knew I wanted extra cash though. I'd always been the girl in the middle, with never as much cool stuff as my wealthy friends, although I certainly wasn't poor. I was sick of that. I wanted Hermes. I wanted a nicer ipod. Hell, I just wanted to be able to buy songs on itunes and not illegally download them!

For a women's studies class I took I wrote a paper on the history of concubines in China, compared to the recent uptick in the number of sugar babies there. In the past couple of years there have been a couple of high profile cases of wealthy men and their young, attractive girlfriends. I found the topic fascinating.

So it became my new favorite fantasy. At first I didn't put myself into the role, but slowly I started seeing myself as a girlfriend to a wealthy man.

But how does one meet a wealthy guy, let alone make it clear to him that this 19 year old college student is interested in him? I went to the internet for answers, of course!

And that's how I stumbled across the sites, eventually signing up for one... and the rest is history! Nearly four years later, and I am still happy to be meeting potentials and crossing my fingers that this one is my perfect SD!

Stomach Ache

Possibly my funniest meeting occurred with a man I was meeting for the first time earlier this year. Let's call him Mr D. Mr D flew in to see me for the night, and was flying back out the next morning. He had regular business in my city, so it seemed like we could work something regular out. He got a hotel room in a nice but not five-star hotel downtown, and we agreed to meet up for a chat at a chain coffee shop down the street.

Mr D was probably 47 or 48 (never trust the ages they post online!) and pudgy. I was in no way physically attracted to him, but he was nice and a little funny. Plus, as I said, it seemed like we could work something regular out, and that's really important.

Mr D used the restroom at the coffee shop, and when he came back asked if I felt comfortable with him. I answered in the affirmative. He joked that he figured if I wasn't comfortable he would have come back from the restroom to an empty table. I laughed along with him, but to be honest the thought hadn't even crossed my mind!

We walked back to his hotel room. The view was spectacular, but I hardly had time to enjoy it. Mr D undressed me quickly, and then went down on me. In our emails before meeting he had said he really enjoyed that, so I was surprised he hardly seemed to know where my clitoris was! After he had enjoyed himself for a while I began to go down on him.

Now, I'd like to think I know a little about giving head. I'm no expert, but I have a couple of tricks up my sleeves. Well, Mr D wasn't very hard to start off with, but after perhaps five minutes he went completely soft. He suggested we try 69, no change. We cuddled and made out for a bit, thinking perhaps he'd get it back.

Then the hilarity begins. Mr D excuses himself to the bathroom and tells me to watch tv. Well, I will admit to being a bit of a tv addict, so I quickly turn on CNN. Mr D is in the bathroom five minutes, and when he comes out he says he's feeling better. We begin to make out again, but within two minutes he runs back to the restroom.

It would appear that poor Mr D had some bad food on the plane ride over and is feeling the effects! He apologized and said that it simply wasn't going to work out tonight. He hands me $300 plus cab fare, and I'm on my way!

I never saw him again, although he did email me to apologize. The apology is the funniest part! I got $300 for hardly doing anything!