Living the Lifestyle As A Sugar Baby Dating
The scenario of wealthier, older men and women dating broke and younger socialites in an agreement of companionship and payment has been around for a long time. The only difference is that it has just recently come out of taboo. This type of relationship used to be somewhat unspoken. It used to be understood through intentions and outward appearances: a man tipping the valet in twenties, and glancing at his dense, gold incrusted watch as he lifts it to a drooped brow beneath designer sun glasses; and the vibrant beauty in the corner café across the street that entices him with her bouncy locks and shapely physique radiating with youth. Then, through ‘casual’ and strategic conversation, it becomes clear what both parties want and what they are willing to give in order to gain it. It’s flirtatious and sexy and informative all rolled into one. But now, there’s more of a cutting-to-the-chase type of approach to this particular dating scene.
Now, there’s an entire slew of websites dedicated to helping you find a suitable match with a defined arrangement. People are much more upfront about their desires – sex appeal or money, and much more frank about their offerings – courting or money. There’s a level of consideration for both people that takes away any fears of rejections, tenseness, or awkwardness in this sort of agreement that the sites have brought out in this type of dating. The following are three sugar babies’ accounts of sugar dating reality.
“I Needed Him, And He Needed Me.”
I was 20, and I’d never been away from home. I had never planned on attending college after graduating high school… in fact I hadn’t really planned on doing a whole lot – at least not then. The last job I held was working cashier at my neighborhood car washing service for ten months before I missed two shifts and couldn’t get anyone to cover them for me, and was fired. I had no goals or ambitions, and had been without a job for several months. I had counted on the fact that I’d eventually find my calling, possibly being chosen out of a crowded mall while America’s Next Top Model was in town for casting (like one of the girls from past seasons was), or getting a ridiculously large sum of money for winning the lotto. But since I never bothered to look up casting dates and locations for a coincidental and slim chance to model and rarely bought lotto tickets, I figured that I wasn’t all that determined to do much of anything for myself. I didn’t really need to think about it either. I had hard working parents that were never home, I grew up in a nice suburban home with all my childhood friends, and I didn’t have that jealous streak in me that pushed me to do better because all my friends were doing big things. I just didn’t have a lot to worry about even with the lack of employment. Sure, my parents were always nagging me and attempting to motivate me to at least work; they never had it in their hearts to really punish me for my laziness.
One weekend day though, while I was pretending to job search online when I was really instant messaging my friend on Facebook, my Mom went to take our dog for a walk. I had always parked my car down the street since our front driveway and garage and side streets were pretty packed daily. And that’s when she saw it – my hammy down 1982 Toyota Camry – the passenger side badly crushed and severely scraped. “It’s still drivable though,” I plead with her. “But I am looking for a job!” I retort. Then it’s a guilt trip unlike anything I’ve faced, and all my mistakes, character flaws, and selfish acts are unveiled in a furious frenzy of name calling and accusations that ends with my booting from home. I stay with friends until I eventually ware out my welcome there as well, mooching off of their families while I struggle to seriously find a job that sticks. But nothing works nor pays enough. I’m a theater attendant for 25 hours weekly here, slaving away at a string of fast food joints there, and then ricocheting off of numerous gas stations and countless retail stores.
This chaotic and unsettling turmoil of varied homes, jobs and unsteady pay checks goes on for a while, until I find myself catching the eye of one brilliantly shiny suit and tie – I mean eye. Interviewing at one of the many restaurants I’ve applied to, a man with bristly facial hair, polished dress shoes and appears to be twice my age, smiles from across the hostess podium. He’s with another guy in a suit that seems to be talking his ear off, and has a very serious and stern look on his face. They are led to a table some ways from me, where the intriguing man is continuously peeking over at me from behind his menu. I blush, flash a small smirk, and then I wait outside after my interview is over, enjoying a cheap fag – one of my many expenses that I indulge in, necessarily, instead of paying rent to my gracious friends’ parents.
Mr. Big Spender finally comes out, sees his colleague into a taxi, and walks leisurely over to me. Flirty small talk turns into coffee which turns in several lunch dates which soon turns into me moving in to his master suite hotels with him and traveling all year-long to exotic locales and European villas. I stroked his ego a lot and made him feel as special as he made me feel. I tended to his every emotional desire and put up with his moody episodes. I needed him just as much as he needed me. But his job finally settled him in Michigan, where we moved in the dead of winter. When he confessed that there would be no more traveling for his work for a very long time now, I told him that I needed that adventure in my life and that I’d have to find it somewhere else. He was very understanding and knew that the relationship couldn’t last long. He did, however, make several attempts to persuade me to stay, showering me with gifts and lingerie and telling me that he’d always take care of me. But I told him cold weather just wasn’t for me, and all though we cared for each other very much, it was time I moved on. I had found my calling card. I was going to be a professional sugar baby.
I set up a profile on several sugar dating sites and formed my own set of rules, restricting myself to one sugar daddy at a time, devoting myself wholly and completely to that one special guy until breaking it off for new horizons. That was the only moral issue I had with the idea – that I couldn’t be with several daddies at once because I liked the idea of living with each one. They are my boyfriends and my work. And I’ve found an interest in painting while on vacation with my recent hunk. He thinks he could sell one of my portraits it to an interested gallery. I may have a future there, but in the meantime…
I don’t know if I’ll ever stop being in the sugar baby business. Maybe I would consider it if I found that one guy that outshines all the rest in his brains and bank account. But I know that if it weren’t for sugar dating, I’m not sure I’d be where I am today, sunning in California without a care in the world – except for my lunch date with Mr. Right Now, who’s my only concern. A job that I can enjoy happy hour every day at noon, conversing with the CEO of a fortune-500 company, loosening his nerves and relaxing my own – that’s the kind of work I enjoy.
“I Was A Sugar Baby, Before I Understood Term.”
I’ve always been bright. Top of my graduating high school class, scholarship to my state college, and straight-A student, and living off of student loans, yet I still manage to maintain a wonderful lifestyle. When I was a teenager, I was super popular with all the boys. I always had a boyfriend. And all my boyfriends knew that I was fairly high-maintenance. Even though I came from a very low-income household, living with my Aunt and Uncle, I always had this personality for expensive taste. I liked to be pampered and I never paid for meals or dates. I always got the heavier gifts for holidays on the cash-o-meter, because I could never afford the same for them. It never seemed to bug anyone. At least anyone I was with. I always focused more on my studies rather than working. Right out of high school, I moved in with my boyfriend at the time, into our own apartment. He was working two jobs and skipped on college. But things didn’t work out, and I was looking for a job for the first time to help support myself.
I found a really neat dating site where men were willing to pay me for my time. I found a couple of guys that I really liked. One was a partner in a law firm who knew lots about negotiating and the importance of networking. One was a nerdy engineer who was about the youngest of the bunch, but still older than me, who loved a lot of the same scientific and math topics I did. And one was a much older man who could’ve been old enough to be my great-grandfather who had been a farmer and owned a small ranch in the country, when he’d hit it big in the lottery and became a mega millionaire overnight. They were all so sweet and I’d have three-hour long dinners with them, go to movies, accompany them to business events and country clubs, and sometimes just talk on the phone for hours – when I wasn’t doing my homework, of course. But that’s it. There was no solidifying a relationship. There was no talk or mention of sex. There was no assumption of physical affairs. It was friendship, and I got paid to be a part of it. Between the three of them, I made upwards of 7,000 dollars a month! Neither of them knew the other existed, so I pretty much got paid triple the amount of my rent and monthly living expenses every couple of weeks. I even saved up enough money to pay off some student loans, buy a new car and some decadent furniture.
I stopped it fairly soon after saving enough money. I only have a few semesters left to go, and I’m pretty set as long as I’m conservative and smart with the money I have left over. I don’t think I’ll ever go back to being a sugar baby, but it was certainly a pleasant way to make cash and I don’t regret it at all. It’s nice to be secure until I find an opening in my career field, and I sort of think of it as a summer job. And I really think of the men I met as special people in my lives that I was able to make a difference for – they certainly made a difference in my life. I’m sure my future relationships will be the same as they’ve always been, and I’ll always stay the role of a sugar baby. It’s funny that I was a sugar baby even before the coined term. It was fun to try it out from a professional standpoint, but I know that I’d rather play that role for someone my age – romance wise.
“She’s All I Ever Wanted.”
26 years old, living in a 600 square-footage studio apartment with four other roommates, playing nightly gigs at the local bar for tip money – that’s where I sat almost 18 months ago. I’m not complaining though. It was enough for me. I had friends that I lived with who all pretty much made the same minuscule amount of money I brought home each week. I lived on instant ramen noodles and TV-dinner pot pies (when they were on sale), and a keg if we ever had enough money to scrap together and spare. I was counting on the fact that I’d have my day in the recording studio, that I’d somehow catch the ear of some hot-shot talent manger. But until that day, I was just spending my days writing songs on my guitar and practicing with my band on weekends to prepare for our nightly slot in front of a crowd of 30 – on a good night. It wasn’t until I got drunk with my friends on a camping trip in the peak of winter, passed out sleeveless on a bed of snow, and had to have my right arm amputated for frost bite, that I came to a sobering realization. Without that arm, I would never be able to become the rock star I’d always dreamed of. There were famous rockers that were able to play their instruments with a physical handicap, and remained remarkably and insanely top notch. But not me. Maybe I could’ve if I tried, but my willpower was drained after that.
My friends were sympathetic for a while, until they got tired of having to pull my weight in groceries and rent. They kept pushing me to get a job and finding me one in their places of work as a pizza delivery boy, an over-the-phone customer representative, and more. But I never had the motivation to work for them. So I got my thirty days notice to vacate, and started looking for a job and apartment needed in less than four weeks. My friend, Jeanine, had talked about this sugar dating service she was into, and that she’d made more money in a week than she could ever at a minimum wage job. I looked it up online, and immediately started posting profiles at every sugar dating site I could find.
In no time at all, women were calling me up, connecting with me online, and asking me out to brunch. I went on a lot of dates. And unlike most other jobs, my handicap wasn’t an issue. Many of the women thought my missing arm was fascinating and adorable at the same time. A lot of women felt sorry for me, and it helped me in the dollar department in that respect. My family probably wouldn’t have approved of this alternative job, and my guy friends wouldn’t understand because they weren’t in the same position. So it was nice that I could act as if I was going out on a job interview, when really I was going out on a date, which I guess was almost the same thing but more fun. Soon, I was making more than enough money to stay in a comfortable apartment and eat more than ramen every night with the amount of money I got just to go to dinner with some of these older gals. Some were all wound up and business oriented, just wanting to enjoy a martini while they take a load off of work. Some were tired-looking and needed a make-out session to spice up their week. Some were escaping their lifeless and extremely dull marriages, a night at a time, with me. One lady said that what she liked the most about me was that I made her laugh and forget her troubles. Another lady said that she wanted more than just friendship, and that it was okay to have multiple girlfriends, as long as I always made time for her.
So, I started using that as a condition of my contractual obligations – not that there were really any written contracts to have signed, just mutual agreements since we’d both invested our time in the site. I started telling people up front that I was a relationship man, and I liked having girlfriends, not just chatting buddies, and that I had multiple – if that was a problem, than we probably shouldn’t meet in the first place. I still had lots of business. I had all sorts of girlfriends of all ages – older than me of course, but there was a range. I had an on-going steady relationship with seven. My days of the week were pretty jam packed with secret getaways and private phone calls and fun, exciting activities that I got to be paid for and the best part – no one knew.
One of the girlfriends though, turned out to be something more than just a romance fling. She’s 46, blonde and tan, and wears designer perfume and Valentino everywhere we go. She’s a lead editor at a wealthy publishing company, and she owns a really beautiful apartment – the whole 32nd floor, to be exact. She’s shy and always takes a bit of coaxing to get her to come out of her shell. But she also has a side that is wild and free-spirited that she only reveals for me. She doesn’t pay as much as some of the other chicks, but she’s a lot of fun to be with and I feel very close to her. You can tell she used to be gorgeous as a young lady, but years of working her butt off and sucking up to executives of the company has shown its’ toll on her face and body. One night, we stayed up until sunrise and talked about everything and anything. I found that we have so much in common and a lot of her upbringing was similar to mine. I realized that she’s all I ever wanted. We fell asleep in each other’s arms, and after that night I cut ties with all of my other girlfriends and quit business as a sugar baby.
I proposed to her on a romantic vacation on the beaches of Thailand, and we’ve been married for only a few months now, but I know it’s forever. Without sugar dating, I may never have been able to connect with her, and known what true love had in store for me.
Like and Unlike Any Other Life
It’s clear that sugar dating has always been a lucrative market for fellow babies, but that it’s just now becoming defined as a market and the employee title as babies. Sugar babies will always have the demand required to stay afloat as earners, just as sugar daddies and mommies will always have eager youths to keep them company. Sugar babies have all sorts of reasons for starting, stopping and continuing this type of work, and the job description varies for each of them. Sugar dating has been around for a very long time, and is just now starting to gain more societal acceptance now that its terms are more freely discussed. It’s a lifestyle that offers benefits, requires work, and can lead to other opportunities, just like any other lifestyle.