This is why hookers don't kiss on the lips.

So this past week I was feeling very desperate for cash - I've been unemployed for about 2 months now and it's tough finding work. Although to be honest, I haven't really been trying. I'm enjoying my hedonistic lifestyle too much to work to support/continue it, ironically. Add to this spending 20 to 40 bucks a week for gas to see my boyfriend (who I want to marry! by the way) and it has made for a very stressful fucking month.

So, I text Mr. Nice (who is officially moving to FL for business if you recall) asking for help. No response. Not shocking, but seriously, he got the name "Mr. Nice" for a reason.

I email Mr. Sincere, asking if he'll help me again, as he has in the past. No response.

I email Mr. Sexy, asking him to help me. Bingo! He asks how much I need. I tell him 200 would be ideal but anything he can give me, even 50, will help immensely. He says he feels comfortable giving me (a person he has never met before) 100 + gas money, if I will drive out to DC to meet him. My mama didn't raise no fool, and I immediately agree.

He suggests a sushi place in Chinatown that has really excellent reviews. I arrive about 20 minutes late (I refuse to pay for parking in DC, so I walked/jogged all the way from the Jefferson Memorial free parking lot to Chinatown). The sprinting actually calmed me down significantly - my body was all loosened up from the sudden blood-flow and I didn't really have a chance to wait and get nervous (another sugar mentioned getting "nervous tummy" before sugar dates - I know exactly what you mean!). I got lost looking for it but he kept texting me directions until I found it.

I walk in and it's even nicer than I expected. I'm wearing a turqoise blue striped camisole with a turquoise bra that peeks above it a bit, dark jeans, silver gladiators, and my pleather Target jacket. I feel undressed. He's there in the waiting area, and he's not what I expected. He both does and does not look like his picture. He's quite a bit skinnier than I expected, and his hair is tied back in an 18th century style low ponytail that's quaint and sexy. We embrace and then we follow the waiter upstairs to be seated.

The waiter pulls out the chair for me, but as he passes it he touches it with one hand, and I can tell that he would have wanted to pull it out himself. We chat a bit and it's immediately easy and friendly between us. We peruse the menu and I mention that the seafood potstickers look good but never formally order them. He notices this and orders them for us to share. A consummate gentleman, noting the things I've hinted at. Wonder if the same trick would work in the Tiffany's store?

I get the steak and he gets some kind of sushi roll. We share the potstickers as well as a duck appetizer that came with my favorite Hoisin sauce.

We talk about all kinds of things. Travel, mostly, as we've both been to foreign countries this year. The different attitudes and ways of life in other countries. Our origins, where we were born, what we do for a living, etc. Standard issue gentleman all the way - complimenting me, and not ever talking down to me. I could tell he thought I was smart, and I didn't obfuscate anything about my intelligence - I made fun of myself for licking my chopsticks, calling myself gauche and noting that in Asian cultures it's considered rude. How many 20 year olds use the word "gauche" in their everyday vocabulary?

The meal ends and I am stuffed. All these tiny dishes really add up. He picks up the check. We walk down to the front of the restaurant and out onto the street, where hundreds of people are milling past in either direction. We stand there with my tourist-y map open (I've been to DC many dozens of times, but I still get spatially disoriented when I'm not within site of the Washington Memorial) and he tells me which direction to take to get back to my car (which I need to do on the double - it's a 30 minute walk and the police are crazy strict about the 3 hour time limit). He asks how much it cost me in gas to get here and I say about 25 dollars. He takes an extra 20 from his wallet and puts it in an envelope that already has 100 dollars in it and hands it to me. I thank him sincerely, then we embrace and I kiss his cheek. Mutually, we turn heads and kiss on the mouth, slowly and softly. After a moment he reaches around to try to touch my butt (seriously dude?) and he gives me a little tongue. A little too wet and soft a kiss, actually, but not unpleasant by any means. I had decided in advance that I was cool with kissing him as a thank you for the help he is giving me, so when he went for it, I let him.

I walked away with a smile and walked straight over to the nearest branch of my bank and deposited 110 of it and kept 10 in cash in my wallet for emergencies/mad money/etc.

I texted him thanks and said sorry my breath probably smelled like green onions from my steak, he texted back saying he ate the same food (yep, we ate off each other's plates) and that "the kiss was hot, btw. didn't think you'd be into anything physical. glad to see i was wrong!" and that he really hopes we can "explore that further". I did not respond.

Ladies and gentleman, hook line and sinker, this guy wants to fuck my brains out. So, a matter of economics. How do I extract the most money from him with the least possible unpleasantness?

His income isn't crazy high - in the 150K to 200K range - but it's still enough for me to consider a 1K a month allowance reasonable.

The man paid 120 dollars for a kiss, after all.

Though as I thought about it driving home, I realized that's not the most I've ever received for a date that ended with simply a kiss. Mr. Nice gave me 200 dollars on one of our first encounters for a brief peck on the lips.

Ugh. I love my boyfriend. I am serious when I say I want to marry him. I thought that a kiss would be less repugnant to me than any other physical activity, less guilt-inducing, but I was wrong. I felt gross on the way back from the city, like I had done a bad thing. I needed the money. Does that make it any more or less right? What if I steal a loaf of bread to feed my starving family? What if I let Mr. Sexy do anal, but not vaginal? That's how some porn stars do it, saving certain orifices for their lovers. What if we make out but I never let him touch me below the waist. What if I give him head but don't let him come in my mouth. What if, what if.

The worst part is, Mr. Sexy actually is sexy. He's my type. He's a smart, kind, funny, laid-back, good-looking dude who I clicked with immediately both online and in person. If I weren't so head-over-heels in love with my current BF, if I were single, I would date the hell out him. Not even sugar dating, just regular dating. He's only 33 - only 13 years older than me. 10 years younger than my last SD.

I'm not sure he knows he's on what basically amounts to a sugardaddy site though. His profile text under "what i'm looking for" says:

What I'm NOT looking for is to be your 'one and only'. I don't think life works that way and I don't want you to try to prove me wrong either.

Looking for someone interested in some fun. I'm not hurting financially and I'm more then happy to spread some of it around, as long we both stay on the same page. :)

So I guess I need to email him, thank him again for a lovely time, and ask him exactly what it is he's looking for. I want to play this one carefully though, because he's very big on honesty and sincerity, so if he feels like he's being handled at any time all bets are off.

Haha maybe in that case, the best bet would, NOT to handle him?

I am confused. I am broke. I want to spoil my boyfriend. I need a job. I like Mr. Sexy. Brain on fire. Good night.

Post script - boyfriend acted as a sugardaddy this week. We had been to the mall last weekend and I had tried on this dress at forever 21. It looked phenomenal on me, but I was too broke to afford it (how sad is that? too broke for a 22 dollar dress?). This weekend I show up and he's got it, in my size (small) and color (black), waiting for me. My first official LBD. I know he had to call in favors to get it (he's broke and doesn't have a car) and that made it all the sweeter. I think I'm going to have my shopping slave buy the royal blue version for me as well. It fits like a glove and the cut is beyond perfect for my body. Now I need matching heels for when I wear it to see Mr. Sexy. I am going to hell.