Sugar Sans Novels & Stories

the chairman began, clearing his throat, “while your recent… personal publicity has brought some attention to the gallery, the board is concerned about long-term reputational alignment. Several key clients have expressed hesitation.” Sophia, seated beside me as moral support (and unofficial note-taker), squeezed my knee under the table. She leaned in slightly and whispered just loud enough for me to hear, “Tell them your sugar daddy brings better clients than their dusty old donors ever could.” I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling.

The taste of saccharin instantly made him purse his thin lips. He swallowed the popcorn in his mouth with difficulty and then saw Sydney grab a piece of popcorn and put it into her mouth as well. "Eat less." Julien unscrewed the cap of the bottle and took two sips of water to wash down the sweet saccharin in his mouth. Sydney looked at him. "Why?" "It has too many additives. Don't eat too much. It's not good for your health. If you like popcorn, I'll ask the cook to make some good popcorn and bring it to you." Julien closed the water bottle and put it aside.

Next up was getting some energy. I saw a cafe up ahead. On the condiment station, packets of white sugar, creamer cups, and brown sugar were neatly arranged. Sugar was a crucial energy source, and the packets could come in handy in emergencies to prevent low blood sugar. With a blank expression, I calmly walked over like I was just grabbing something at home. A dozen sugar packets and a few creamers slipped into my pocket in under two seconds. Once I was done, I calmly walked out of the cafe and found a secluded corner. There, I tore open two sugar packets and dumped them straight into my mouth. The intense sweetness exploded across my tongue, giving me a cheap illusion of fullness.

I hadn’t bothered to ask what he had been doing, although I could see him cutting vegetables finely and brewing something in the pot. He set it down gently on the table in front of me, his eyes soft with concern. “You need to stop eating that, Vic,” he said, as he referred to the ice cream in my hand and the 5 empty bowls of ice cream on the floor. “You’re going to upset your stomach, eating all that melted ice.” Aiden had never been much of a sweet tooth; I didn’t know why. But the little time we spent together while we played, whenever I shared my candy, he wouldn’t take it.

I giggled, "I'm going to be all sticky!" "Sugar-free," she pointed to the can. "Bitch," I giggled. "You just can't seem to listen, can you?"

Chelsea asked hesitantly. "Of course, why wait? It's time for you to turn a new page with a new job. How much is your salary at this café, anyway?" "But I'm not ready to spend the night with a man." "Yeah, I know that, but I'm sure you can start with the initial steps. Olive once told me that being a sugar baby doesn't necessarily mean going straight to a room and servicing the man who hires you. In the beginning, you can accompany him for meals or outings, chat with him, or even go karaoke. Don't jump to the core of the matter right away if you're not ready, but if you're looking for something bigger, you'll naturally have to spend the night."

I miss having his magical, magnificent cock. Yup, that's the hormones talking. Because I know me; I'm not a slut, not a whore, not even thirsty. I've been cockless for four long years without any cravings so it's the hormones. Definitely not me. "We have a promotion now. For every Large set, it comes with a free cup of latte." He stands up, meeting me halfway, “But we are out of cream. Do you mind waiting while I get some?" He’s clearly having fun with this, pulling more tricks under his sleeves.

For the fact I just want her to fucking take all her stuff back. "A sugar baby?" She scoffs as she jumps from the kitchen top, now standing next to me. "Fine." That's when she looks at me again, but with a decision made. Fuck. She looks like she's on a mission. Dangerous mission. "I can be a sugar baby." What? "But I want allowance. Monthly, weekly, I don't care. I want allowance." She crosses her arms on her chest, looking confident with the offer. No, not an offer. A demand.