Gay Sugar Daddy

3

So far I've known he's very easy to get along with, has a sense of humor, and definitely gives me this cool-guy vibes.

"I don't think I should waste your time," I begin my little speech about not taking the position that's being offered when he suddenly cuts me off, "You're gorgeous, you're hilarious, if anything it's definitely not wasting my time. I'm honoured you'd spend your time with me this long in fact."

I grin at his seems-to-be-sincere compliment, and decide to scratch my itch before going further with my no, "You're good looking, and funny, obviously have tons of money, so why would you need a sugar baby? I seriously don't get it."

He smiles as he sips his drink, "Perhaps you should say yes to know the reason, hmm?"

"You know I'm gonna say no since the beginning?"

"Miss Collins did tell me about your rejection." I know how things go in Cupcake. He'd be presented with a few profiles, he'd select one, then he'd have a meeting with her. If she says yes, sign the contract, and the relationship is sealed for three months.

But in this case, I'm saying no, even before the meeting. So he should go with his next choice, not pressing Miss Collins or Helen for a meeting with the girl which in this case, is me.

"I'm starting my internship in two weeks, I don't think I'll be able to juggle between a full time internship and this. I can't commit, and I don't do things halfway so yeah, that's why I said no."

"But you don't work on weekends."

"Well last time I check I'm a human, not a robot."

He chuckles at my answer but I'm still not done, "I'm gonna be frying my brain for five days straight then I'm expected to fry my ehem, excuse my language, pussy for the next two days? Nope. I don't think so, Mr H."

He looks at me as if he's thinking which starts to make me uncomfortable so I sip on my Rose to ease this weird feelings.

"You're not starting until the next two weeks right?" Don't tell me he wants to be with me for just two weeks.

Because I don't do fuckboys.

Yeah I know, whatever my principle is, I'm still gonna be labelled as a prostitute. High class prostitute; an escort if I'm gonna call myself one.

But I don't care, people can say whatever they want but I'm the only one who matters. And I say no to fuckboys.

If I want one, I would've indulged into the university life. Sleeping with guys my age, getting dumped after a few weeks, or worse stuck with the same guy when you know you can get better, urgh. No. Just no.

"I don't do two weeks." I say it before he managed to propose it.

"What?" He's somehow offended by that.

"You look like you're thinking. Hard. So what else can it be besides that?"

"I'm 33, I'm done with the whole one week-two weeks fucking thing. I want a real deal."

I scoff at the irony of that, "A real deal? From a sugar baby agency? Are you sure you're at the right platform? Shouldn't it be a match-making agency or something?" But damn, 33? He's too young to be a sugar daddy. Why won't he do things the conventional way? I'm pretty sure the girls will be lining up from here to the next country if he advertises the offer.