Julia and I agreed to meet downtown. I rushed home to change my clothes and to freshen up. I wanted to look decent for the meeting. And then I drove to meet her, thinking how good it was going to be.
Thank god for family.
Julia was there, sitting at a table when I arrived. She looked just like me! Young, pretty, very sexy and very blonde too.
I leaned in to give her a kiss but she held back. I put my hand out awkwardly, to greet her. Maybe a hand shake. Nope. This was not going to be easy.
And before I could say a word, Julia looked me in the eye and said.
‘I want you away from my father. I want you to get out of his life. Now. Today. I never want to hear your name again or hear anything about you. You have embarrassed me and you have embarrassed my father and your relationship, your gold-digging days, are over. Keep the car. Keep the things he has given you but give me the keys for the apartment. It should be mine anyway. And get out. Go far, go anywhere you choose but go away. I don't care what happens to you. But I can tell you that if you stay here it will not end well. You will have no more contact with him.’
I could not believe what I was hearing. Who was Julia to tell me what to do.
I stumbled out of the restaurant, tears streaming down my face. I called Hugo again. Still busy. No, he wasn't busy at all, was he.
He was avoiding my calls.
Fuck Julia. Fuck Hugo. Fuck everyone.
I walked into the travel agency on my corner. The one advertising tickets to Paris. And I booked my ticket. The flight left the next day at 10 am.
I would just have time to pack.
Sugar Daddy’s Girl
More Than Friends
Book Two
Lexi Kinsley
© 2017 All Rights Reserved
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses per law
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
"Erotica is literature designed to be read with one hand.."
-Brooke Kinsley
Description
Hugo Davenport is a sex addict and rich lonely men. One day he meets Katie Stewart, the young, new and very hot therapist. She seems to be the right one to help him. They talk about Hugo’s problems. She finds hot he wasn’t meeting her for his loneliness problems but because Katie looks exactly like ‘’Candy’’, Hugo’s favourite porn star.
This was a game to Hugo. He didn’t need therapy. He wanted me. He was fifty years old but he wanted to be with me, even though I was half his age.
Is this all going to end in disaster, Katie being a Sugar Baby?
he was Hugo Davenport. The scandal would be enormous if people knew he had a Sugar Baby.
Chapter One: A flight to Paris
I’d walked into the travel agent with tears streaming down my cheeks. I must’ve looked a terrible sight.
‘A one way ticket to Paris please. For tomorrow, or even possibly for today. I need to get out of this city, as quickly as I can.’
I handed over my credit card, the Amex gold card.
‘First class?’ the agent asked.
Yes yes yes, I thought. Hugo had been a generous sugar daddy. Plus, the credit card was his. I shouldn’t have to suffer now, just because he had dumped me.
Reality hit in. Hugo had dumped me. He wasn’t taking my calls and he was ignoring me completely. I started crying all over again.
The travel agent did not ask any questions. He looked at his computer, pushed a few buttons and then handed me a couple of papers.
‘You fly out tonight, Air France at 8 pm. Seat number 3A. You may want to go home and pack quickly then get to the airport . You only have a few hours to go.’
He looked at my sympathetically. I guess I wasn’t the first woman to walk into his office, broken hearted and needing to get away from a lover. An older lover. A sugar daddy lover.
My air ticket was booked under the name Katie Stewart. Candy Starlight, my sugar baby name, was no longer. I was Katie, again.
I’d wished I was happy being Katie again. I wasn’t. I still couldn't believe that our affair was over.
But then, perhaps that was what it was. An affair and not a relationship. Women always struggle finding a difference between the two, especially young women.
I’d rushed home and packed a bag. I left behind all the beautiful dresses that Hugo had bought for me. I didn’t want any memories. Instead, I packed my old clothes, a few summer frocks, my shorts and t-shirts. I did not need the sexy designer dresses or the high heels. I certainly didn’t need any of the diamonds or pearls that he’d clasped around my neck. That gorgeous sapphire bracelet could go another young babe.
And I wasn’t going to be wearing stockings or suspenders even though I loved wearing them so much. But I had only loved wearing them for Hugo. On demand. I had never worn such lingerie for anyone before.
Mind you, I had developed a taste for French underwear and I quite liked it!
But still. Now, it was back to a simple life for me. Without the paparazzi hounding me. And without Hugo.
But I would be in Paris and I thought that would make up for everything. Paris, the most romantic and beautiful city in the word and one where I had always wanted to go.
I packed and as I left I locked the door to the apartment behind me, wondering what I should do with the key. I could keep it. It was a beautiful apartment and I’d been happy there. But then - Hugo - damn him - I did not want to feel obligated to him in any way. He may have been my sugar daddy but he sure wasn’t my sugar daddy anymore.
I put the key in an envelope, addressed it to Hugo and threw it into the mail. There. Hugo was over and out of my life, once and for all.
Sitting in the taxi on the way to the airport I had time to think. The last few months had been a whirlwind of romance, love and - rather deliciously - of sex. But the last few days had thrown me completely. Thinking we could be seen in public, with our big age gap and it not having any repercussions on his life or on mine had been a bit silly. But Hugo dumping me when the scandal had broken? It was totally unacceptable. I had never thought he would do that to me. He was the one who had encouraged me to get into this in the first place, he was the one who had stalked me.
So what if he was a hot shot businessman? So what if I was about thirty years younger than him? And so what if I was his sugar baby? It wasn’t a train smash. I was so sure he had fallen in love with me and that it had been more than just sex.
I had certainly fallen in love with him. I ached for him, right now. I wanted him, next to me in the taxi. He would’ve been close to me, his body against mine, his fingers playing with mine. He would’ve been teasing me, teasing my body, making me want to reach out and touch him.
But it was over. Hugo had never been in love with me . And so, I was off to Paris. I still had a lot of money in my account. I could rent an apartment for a month or two, take in all the art, enjoy the beautiful summer Parisian days, eat all that delicious food, drink French wine and maybe meet a young Frenchman.
Young! I was done with older men.
I ordered a glass of champagne on the flight thinking it would help me sleep. Or at least make me feel better. It didn’t. I couldn't stop thinking and crying and thinking again. What could I have done differently? What should Hugo have done differently?
And how dare he ignore my calls.
The man sitting next to me interrupted my thoughts.
‘Hey, I hate to interfere but are you okay? I can see you’ve been crying.’
Oh my gosh, I
suddenly became aware of him. I had been so self consumed that I’d been weeping, not caring who was watching.
I sat up a little straighter in my first class chair, pulled my skirt down over my legs and tried to straighten my disheveled blonde hair that was all over the place.
‘Oh God, I’m a mess,’ I said, wiping my face. My mascara was running down my cheeks and my lipstick was smudged
‘You are a mess, but a beautiful gorgeous mess,’ he said.
I swear he was flirting with me. Good, I thought, because I can flirt back to. There was absolutely nothing stopping me.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, ‘I didn’t mean to disturb you. And yes, yes, I’m fine, just feeling a little sorry for myself. But I’m okay, I promise. I think I’m going to have another glass of champagne. Would you like to join me?’
I could definitely flirt back and I had learned a few lessons along the way.
Hugo had taught me about champagne and I knew to only drink the good stuff.
‘Of course,’ he said, in answer to sharing a bottle of champagne with me. ‘I could never let a young girl drink alone.’
Young girl! Oh dear. I looked at him properly for the first time. He was an older man. He was not as old as Hugo but most definitely older. I was NOT going to get involved with another old man.
But this was just champagne, on a flight to Paris and everyone drinks champagne on flights to Paris, especially when they’re travelling first class.
The air hostess brought the bottle over and poured our glasses.
Vevue Cliquot. The same champagne I used to drink with Hugo. Well, damn him.
‘Cheers.’
We clinked our glasses and the rest of the flight passed in a blur. I do remember at some stage telling Alain all about my disastrous love affair. He listened sympathetically, as men do.
And then he reached over and kissed me. Or maybe I reached over and kissed him. I don’t quite recall but I know we exchanged a whole lot of delicious long, lusty, drunken airplane kisses. It was kinda sexy, again, a young girl, an older man, his hand under my shirt, playing with my breasts. I seem to recall him talking about how beautiful they were, how firm, how he loved the feel of my taut nipples. And I felt him, under his trousers, his hard delicious cock. But I stopped him when he reached under my dress. I wasn’t ready to do anything else. I wasn’t going to join the mile high club with a stranger.
Also, I still felt completely raw and broken although Alain had made me feel a teeny bit better.
‘We’ll be beginning our descent in five minutes.’ The pilot’s voice boomed over the intercom system. ‘Please adjust your seats, put your trays in the…’
I made my way to the aircraft bathroom, adjusting my dress along the way, and got myself ready for landing. I threw water on my face, took two headache tablets - had I really drunk all that champagne - and put on a little make up. There. I did not look like a woman who was broken hearted. I looked like a young, gorgeous woman who was easy to take Paris by storm.
And I was ready.
I said goodbye to Alain who asked me for my telephone number.
‘It would be very nice to meet up with you while you’re in Paris, Katie. I could take you for dinner and we could stroll along the River Seine. We could even finish what we started doing here.’
But said ‘No thank you Alain, you’re a little old for me and I don’t think it’s a good idea’, and
then I walked through customs and immigration with a swing in my step. I was not going to get stuck with another sugar daddy so quickly. I was young, carefree and independent. I could do anything I wanted.
It was spring in Paris. The sky was bright blue, the flowers were in bloom, with daffodils and daisies everywhere. French women all looked beautiful, wearing skimpy clothing and enjoying the sunshine on their skin. French men were as handsome as everything I had read about them. The air smelled fragrant and delicious. I knew I had made the right decision in coming here.
After chatting to the man at information I’d made a booking for a long-stay apartment. And then I was in a French taxi and on my way to the Saint Germaine district. This all looked so romantic, old buildings, gorgeous boutiques, men carrying newspapers under their arms (Huge had done that) and women carrying baguettes.
Paris.
I was a young girl in Paris on my own and oh my, my apartment was absolutely magnificent. Small but with a fabulous view of the cobble stoned streets below and the most delicious and enormous king size four poster bed in my bedroom.
Although I had to not think about beds! And being in them, or being naked in them, or being naked in them with Hugo.
I had to stop thinking about who I wanted with me in my bed in Paris.
It was time to explore.
Chapter Two: Katie in Paris
I spent my early days browsing bookstores, wandering the streets of the Champs Elysees and the Latin Quarter, buying French pastries, popping in to museums and galleries and learning to speak a bit of French.
I checked my phone from time to time but there was nothing. Hugo was not making any attempt to contact me. I wanted to send him a message but I knew that I couldn’t. I had to make a clean break.
I missed my work but being a therapist suddenly felt like years ago. I hadn’t really had time to let my clients know that I was leaving. But then, most of my clients had left me when the scandal broke. So much for loyalty. I wondered about porn. I wondered if Hugo was back to watching porn. Was he watching Candy? Was he missing me, Katie, the same way that I was missing him.
I missed our relationship. I missed all the things he bought for me. I missed the dinners and the conversation and the surprises that he always played on me.
I hated to admit it, but I really missed the sex. Hugo had introduced me to something that I loved and I wanted it back. I wanted to be with him, now, naked. I wanted to see him walk through the door and tell me to take off my dress.
‘Drop your dress to the floor, Candy,’ he would say. ‘Keep your shoes on. Stand like that. Naked. Yes. Just like that. I want to look at you.’
I could feel myself getting wet. I missed the way he used to look at me. I missed the games we used to play.
In a moment of weakness I went online.
I typed into google. I wasn’t quite sure what to look for but I tried.
Candy. Porn. Candy Starlight.
And something popped up on my screen. Candy Starlight. Porn Star. Watch her videos and her films, right here, right now. Meet her in her cam room…
Oh my, I could not help myself, i had to go online and chat to her.
I clicked on the link for cam girls. Cam Candy.
There she was, incredibly beautiful and sexy. Oh my god, she did look so much like me. No wonder Hugo thought we were similar.
She had the same blonde hair, the same big blue eyes, the same petite body that somehow oozed sex without even trying.
I could have sex with Candy, I thought.
She was on the screen now, wearing a French maid’s uniform, her big breasts spilling out over the French lace. The dress was so short, that you could see her ass sticking out. And she was wearing no underwear, of course.
I took off my underwear too.
I suddenly wanted to be Candy Starlight again.
I felt myself. Oh my god, I felt so good. I wanted to lie back and feel Hugo and Candy’s hands, on me, in me, all over me. I wanted them both to touch me all over, to lick me, kiss me. I wanted to do the same to the two of them.
I was on my bed, my legs spread out, my own fingers in me. I came, twice.
And then I went back online. To Candy on her live cam. I realised I could talk to Candy if I wanted to.
I wanted to. I didn’t want sex though. I had just had that. I wanted to try and find out about Hugo
‘Hi…’ I typed.
Candy looked directly into the camera. ‘Hi there,’ she said. ‘Would you like to chat?’
She was a bit like a sex robot. But she was very seducti
ve, those big blue eyes looking directly into the camera, her one hand on her cleavage, the other resting just under her skirt.
‘I’m not here for anything sexy, Candy, I typed. I just want to ask you something. It may sound odd. But I want to ask if you know a man called Hugo. Hugo Davenport. He may be a client of yours.’
Candy looked disapproving.
‘My name is Katie, by the way. I continued typing. I had a relationship with Hugo. He was my sugar daddy. I was his sugar babe. He always used to talk about you, being his favorite porn star.;
Nicola: A Dirty Bad Boys Romance (Steamy Thrillers Series Book 3) Page 9