Chapter 1

(MFF cons) (edited)

He slowly nudged himself into her as she opened for him. They had sex nearly every night now, but each time felt new, though comfortable and warm. He purposefully held his weight off of her. Only his hips now joined to hers, pressed down on her young body. She was his sugar. But to him, she was his light, the reason to keep living, a true fountain of youth. To her, he was now more than just money; she finally felt safe, secure, loved. In another life, he might have been her grandfather, but now he was her sugar daddy, though she was falling in love with him.

He eased up, pulling himself partially out of her tight little pussy. She was only 21 years old to his 68, but they had grown past the age difference over the last year. They kissed passionately as he pushed slowly back in. Her whole body was shoved up into the pillows around her head. He was twice her weight and a foot taller, making her seem like a little girl underneath him.

Her girlish blue eyes opened with a sparkle as they focused on his sage brown eyes. She smiled and made a low moan, real, not faked. Not like that first night when she felt she had to act and where they had ended up laughing in the middle of that first sex together. Her fake orgasm had sounded like a bad porn soundtrack. She didn’t need to fake anymore. He had learned her body and how to play it.

That Saturday, many months earlier, Mike had moped around his condo like he did nearly every day since he had retired ... and since he had lost his wife. He sat down at his computer yet again. But this time, he went to a different website, one that catered to connecting specific types of people. In this case, sugar babes to sugar daddies.

As a retired mechanical engineer, he had money. More than he needed to live on. And he was lonely. He had looked at dating sites for women closer to his age, even dated a few, but most had too much baggage; ex’s, children, issues. He had read a little about sugar daddies; young college girl needs money & place to live, willing to accept $$ from an older man. Benefits possible. He figured the worst case for him was that she would be like having a daughter around the house. He needed someone like that. He felt older than his years as it was. Youthful energy always stirs the blood.

So, he filled out the profile, answering everything, optional questions, too, and entirely truthfully. He hadn’t heard much about catfishing but didn’t care. No relationship should start off on lies. He flipped through prospects, a bit surprised by the number of young women on there. He wondered about their fathers.

Some girls looked interesting, but he became warry as some were too good to be real. Then he hit on hers. Her picture was enough. He breezed through her short bio; college student, looking for older gentleman, money, room, board, other negotiable. He fretted over updating his photo he had just taken, but decided to leave it. He looked at her picture again. Her eyes captured him. She was ... perfect, not perfect, she was real.

His type, if he could quantify what type that was. Her face was cute, balanced, blue eyes, bleached blond/brunette hair, and a bright smile of straight white teeth. She looked small in the photo, petite size, simple outfit of a flowery top and typically ‘worn out’ jeans, but not flaunting herself. No bikini. No stuffed bra. No fake smile. She looked like a typical college coed. Something about her just struck him. He responded, quickly, before she was gone, whisked away by some other paramour or an incorrect click of his mouse.

He waited.

A reply came.

She had posted her bio with a simple direct subject line; Wanted Sugar Daddy, send username and photo of face, no dick pic! Ashley needed the money because she was desperate. Her latest roommate was kicking her out, her money was gone, and her car wrecked, so she lost her job. She had to drop out of college when the school demanded payment, no longer taking her excuses. Ashley was living on her meager credit card, nearly always maxed out. She posted the ad, not expecting much more than creeps and assholes.

She had gone through several boyfriends, or so-called boyfriends, though most just wanted her for sex and to sponge off her, at least until she lost her apartment for non-payment. Since then, she had moved from friends to acquaintances of friends, to some guy or girl she met at a bar, at times having to trade fake love for another night inside a crappy room. She was broke. She was unhappy. She had no prospects. She couldn’t even go home. She was tired of it all. Ashley remembered how she and her girlfriends laughed at the idea of sugar daddies. Now here she was actually considering looking for one.

Within an hour of the posting, she had four messages, two with obviously fake photos, one dick pic, and one of someone that could have been her grandfather. But that one was different, so she didn’t immediately discard it. His message had said she looked pretty in the photo she had posted, standard fare, but then apologized for not knowing how this worked.

She looked at his picture. His was typical of an old man; greying hair & beard, reasonably groomed, decent looking, with slightly tired eyes. His photo was ok, not fake, not showing off, just a bit of a nervous smile that touched her for some reason. His bio included lots of info, too much she thought; phone number, email, age, height (tall), weight (overweight), marital status (widower), and more. He ended with, ‘I hope you will contact me’. There was no mention of “benefits”. She sat rereading, trying to get a feeling. She didn’t want to end up with some creep or stalker; she had already had to handle her share of creeps and stalkers from when she barely turned 14 years old.

She replied. Maybe she was just a bit too desperate to not answer. He responded within minutes; obviously, notifications turned on. It was a simple hello and a thank you for her reply. She friended him so now he could see her other photos. She had deleted the too sexy ones but did keep a few that showed her assets in a tight top and yoga pants. And that one of her bikini; just too cute to not show off. He apologized for not having more photos of himself. He had only signed up a day earlier. He sent her another selfie he created right at the moment. It looked pretty well the same as his first one, just a different angle, not very flattering. So at least it didn’t appear to her that he was lying in any way, not even trying to cover his flaws.

He said her ad was the first one he had responded to and apologized yet again for no particular reason. She was a little surprised that he didn’t say anything about her other photos or about what he wanted in return. Her impression was that he was just gullible and not hiding something.

She smirked, ‘this guy is too easy. Some girl is going to really fleece him.’ She laughed at herself, ‘might as well be me.’

She IM’d him, and he answered within a few seconds. They chatted simple greetings. She came right down to the point, seeing if he didn’t just skip off.

“I want $2,000 month, room, food. Will live with you in your place, no marriage, no kids, no smoking. Other things negotiable.”

She purposefully left the word “sex” out. Just to see what his response was. Most guys ask about that pretty quick or request to see naked photos first.

He responded within moments, “OK.” Nothing more.

“I want to meet first,” she replied.

He sent her his address. She thought, ‘this guy IS green!’, she looked up a coffee shop reasonably close to her place. She didn’t have money for more than just bus fare. She gave him the address of the shop. She wasn’t about to go to someone’s house alone. Public first.

She added, “Can you meet today? 3pm?”

A short delay, “Sure.”

After pocketing her phone, she breathed a sigh. She didn’t know if this was good or bad yet but really had no choice. Her roommate gave her an ultimatum; pay or get out. She stuffed her few belongings into her bags, straightened herself, put on makeup, and decided what to wear.

As they made love, he watched her serene face. He loved gazing at her eyes. He loved her mussed up hair. He loved when she smiled or giggled. He paused his penetrations. Ashley squeezed his thighs with her legs to urge him to continue. His dick stiff as a board, thanks to that little blue pill. He kissed her nose and then her forehead as he began to thrust into her again. Her legs splayed to either side of his hips, knees bent. He felt almost guilty having sex with her. She was so young and beautiful; breasts firm and full, sexy narrow waist, flat flawless belly, a ring in her navel. Several cute tattoos were scattered around her body.

He continued to hump her hairless little pussy, still shaved for him. He kissed her breasts, nipples hard like pointy little eraser tips. He suckled her as he pumped her. She moaned. Her mouth opened ever so slightly. The tip of her tongue at her lips.

His arms held his weigh off her small frame as he arched his back and sexed her. He loved her. He would marry her in an instant if she would have him. But she still held to her original requirements; no marriage, no babies, and above all, did not want responsibilities. It was ok. He had already had all that. But his wife was gone, and his son rarely spoke to him anymore. So he loved her for who she was.

It was a good thing that she liked exercising and had made him join her. She kept him burning those old man tree rings. He had lost 30 pounds so far, belly fat being replaced with muscle. He felt decades younger due to her. He couldn’t resist her.

He leaned down and softly kissed those lips that seemed designed just for such a purpose, and smiled at her giggle yet again under the tickle of his short beard. She had once told him he looked like one of her professors. He got jealous and asked her questions in the middle of lovemaking at that time. She kidded him, taunting him until he became determined to make her cum. She had orgasmed hard.

After the meet up was set, he had spent the rest of the day preparing himself; shower, a quick trip to the barber for a haircut and beard trim, a stop at a flower shop. He had no idea how this was supposed to work. Was this like dating? The website did not give him much info other than security tips, which he realized he has blown, oh well. He stopped by the bank and then was at the coffee shop by 2:30.

He waited, 3:00 came. He watched the two entrances intently. He had memorized her photo but was worried she might have been, well, fibbing. Not an actual photo of her or she (or he!?) was just leading him on. 3:15 came, then went. He was not going to leave, not giving up hope. A ding as a message came. She was going to be late, hope that was ok. No problem, he replied. At 3:40, she came in, frazzled, panicked even, her bus had been delayed. She looked around, forgetting what he looked like, just some old guy. He waved to her. He was still there. She smiled, sat down, and said sorry.

They greeted, and he gave her one long stem red rose. She blushed as she took it. It had been a long time since someone was actually nice to her. They talked about background; His wife of 32 years, died two years ago, cancer. One grown son. No grandkids. Not even a pet. Owned condo near the ocean. Retired mechanical engineer. He shared too much, she thought.

She was more reserved and a few white lies; college student, parents divorced, one older sister in the military, no ex’s, no boyfriend, no kids, no pets. She didn’t add that she also had no car, no job, no money, and had dropped out of college.

He looked at her; she was like a breath of fresh air, like lying in a meadow surrounded in flowers, like the daughter, no, the granddaughter, he never had. He felt an instant attraction. She was even prettier in person than in her photo, younger and sweeter. He thought she was out of his league, way out. She would never agree to live with him. He became very uncomfortable and shy, waiting for her to just get up and leave.

Ashley had to coax him to ask questions about her. He was obviously out of touch, away from people for some time now. She could not believe he was married for so long. She had barely ever stayed with someone for more than a few months. But she did believe him. She thought he was cute, in a ... grandfatherly way. She pushed that aside as she had never seen her grandfather. She hardly even remembered her father. She felt embarrassed at having to do this, needing sugar.

As they talked, he never asked anything about those negotiable benefits. She was surprised, particularly when she reconfirmed her monetary requirements. He agreed without a moment’s delay. She wondered if her price had been too, but even half that amount was more than she had ever made. As it was, Ashley felt she was taking advantage of him. His heart was obviously empty. But, hers wasn’t in too good of shape either.

He only then requested, “Ah, you don’t have a boyfriend? I really wouldn’t want you to bring him...”

She interrupted him, “HA! No boyfriends. I’ve had it with boyfriends!”

“Oh, ah, then ... girl... ?”

She laughed and flirted, “You want me to bring another girl?”

He blushed, “Oh, no! I didn’t mean...”

“Don’t worry. Well, I’ll warn you if I do, ok?” she teased.

He figured out she was playing with him, “Sure, just text me first.”

She accepted him and the offer. He would be her Sugar Daddy. She felt weird just thinking about it, but saw no other choice.

She would be his ... Sugar.

“When do you want to move in?” Mike asked, bashfully.

He felt like he was back in college, dating his future wife, convincing her to move in with him.

She hesitantly offered, “Well, ah, can I come tomorrow? I kinda need a place.”

He looked surprised, she was homeless, or nearly so.

He recovered, “Sure, why not. That would be fine.”

After ironing out a few more details, he handed her his card, actually his old business cards. His number, address, and gate code written on the back.

He went for his wallet. She nervously looked around. Was he going to give her all that money right here?

“Ashley, here take this. It’s just some moving money. And good faith money. I will pay the rest tomorrow.”

He handed her $500. She looked at it and accepted it quickly. She needed that money badly.

“Oh, sure, thanks. No problem with the remainder. Can be anytime.”

She didn’t want to feel like she was squeezing him. She thought to herself, ‘I guess I have been sprinkled.’ She smiled to herself.

Mike began to fuck her faster, rhythm building. He watched her face for signs. He loved watching the changes go across her face. They didn’t use rubbers. He had a vasectomy years back. He didn’t ask about her past partners, but she had offered up some details in their talks. And now that she had money, she went to a regular OBGYN and not to that clinic. She had been relieved when her tests all came back negative. She was also glad not to have to take those pills anymore. He sexed her enough. No asshole boyfriends needed!

He diverted his thoughts away from her, trying to hold himself from coming too soon. Age had slowed his burn enough to keep him from popping like a schoolboy, but she was still hard to resist. Her face changed to that little ‘oh my’ look, and he knew she was close. He held himself on one arm and placed the palm of his hand on her lower belly, massaging it in sync to his rhythm. Her eyes flashed wide, mouth open, and with a moan, her orgasm hit, her body shaking in little fits. He let himself go. With just a few more strokes as she burned in the middle of her heat, her tight pussy now intensely wet with her pelvic muscles rippling him, he exploded!

“AAAHHGA,” he saw heaven in her body and pumped his fluid into her. Spurting repeatedly, his body jerked with each burst. He could barely hold himself up on both arms, not wanting to crush his delicate flower. His love for her poured throughout his body. She may have been sugar, but she was the sweetest thing he had known in a very long time. He rolled the two of them onto their sides, still trying to stay connected to her.

“Marry me,” he whispered for the umpteenth time.

She giggled, “You naughty old man!” in a whisper of affection.

She did feel love for him. She didn’t want it to happen. But it did. She remembered back to that day, the day she moved in.

Ashley had gone home from the coffee shop in a cab, no more bus rides. She deposited some money into her ATM so she could pay for an Uber tomorrow and send a payment to her credit card before it got canceled. She walked to the store and bought a new pod for her Juul. It had been a long time since she had one, and her nicotine withdrawal had made her cranky all the time. She had flitted nervously at her meeting with Mike, but he didn’t seem to pay any attention.

She knew she had this guy hooked, but didn’t want to scare him away before they even began. She threw $300 at her now ex-roommate. She had already fucked him for previous rents until his so-called girlfriend had spit on her, so she stayed away from him. She was already nearly broke again. She slammed her door shut and packed the rest of her things. She only fell asleep after tiring herself out with exercise.

Mike was suddenly aware of the mess his condo was in. In a fit of cleaning, he cleared the guest bedroom, putting boxes wherever he could. By the time he finished, it was well into the night. The kitchen and bathroom were spotless, the bedding was all washed and beds made, the tile was cleaned, and carpets vacuumed, shelves dusted, even some food restocked.

He barely slept a wink worrying if she would stay with him, or even if she would show up. He also worried about if he would have sex with her. That last item worked him up, so; he felt like a high schooler going to his first prom with a girl he had never even kissed. She was so young and pretty. He was old and fat. Well, he felt old and fat, but she didn’t run when she saw him at the coffee shop. Of course, he was clothed then. He had to relieve his sexual tension in the bathroom, carrying his iPad in with him to watch a porn video as he beat his meat. Barely 15 minutes after he had cum, he was back worried about his possible performance with her. Or even if there would be a performance.