I should be a gasbaby?

October 19, 2009

Yesterday, Saturday, I spent much of the day with the married woman I am seeing. Our new default arrangement, including this weekend, is that I would take her out Friday night, but she dutifully returns home to her husband that night, visits me at my place for sex Saturday morning, and spends the day at my place, or hanging out with me outside of my place.

Friday night, we went out for a not inexpensive meal at Bonefish Grille, one of her favorite restaurants. We also went out for coffee and to a club, all financed, of course, by me – a cost which would have been higher had I not overruled her objection about using the free drink ticket the club gave us when we entered, which for some reason she wanted to waste even though the ticket was good for the very drink she wanted to consume.

We met at our usual location about halfway between our homes, a parking lot of an Ikea, even though I knew we would be heading back toward my direction to go out. She lives about 30 miles from me, and part of the reason I advanced the idea of us meeting at the Ikea was that, a few weeks ago, from New York she was arguing with me that she expects me, on Saturdays, to drive all the way to near her house to pick her up and drive her back to my place, only to have to return her again to her home at the end of the day. In other words, instead of her traveling 60 miles, she expects me to travel 120 miles – even though she still has to travel the same 60 miles for the round-trip to my place.

When she visits me, she always volunteers to clean things at my crib that aren’t spotless, but really don’t need cleaning. I have no objection to her cleaning, of course, but with yesterday one of the first days in months it hasn’t been hot and humid, I talked her into going to a street festival, sponsored by two restaurants. I drove, and it was about 25 miles away.

While at the festival, she said she was hungry. I kept asking what she wanted, looked at menus with her, and even walked through the tent set up by one of the restaurants. Nothing was what she wanted – even though they were seafood restaurants and she was craving fish. I suggested a restaurant on the way home, and she rejected that, too – she was obviously negotiating for another tablecloth, something I had no interest in offering at 3:30 PM on a beautiful afternoon. She didn’t mention anything about eating the rest of the way home, and when I dropped her off, she was already running late getting back to her husband so I figured feeding her had become a dead issue.

Today I received a text complaining that when she got home, she was hungry and out of gas. This is a grown woman, approximately my age if not older, who refuses to work – militantly. She announced to her dockworker husband when they moved to Florida five years ago that she retiring, her son is now 21, and she works on average about five hours a month – if that. Our relationship originated on the dancefloor of a club, not SugardaddyForMe.com.

She routinely drives to visit friends in other metropolitan areas, and manages to have enough money for gas for those visits. She routinely skips eating entire days, including one day recently when she fasted for three days before calling me to drive to near her home to take her to Stone Cold Creamery.

Anyway, just venting, commiserating, etc, and showing why we need guyinism and our right to choose willing sex partners through legalization of prostitution. Enough of this nonsense – I paid my new 22 YO sugarbabby (who I DID meet on SugardaddyForMe.com) $300 yesterday, she split an order of quesadillas with me, fucked me, drove to my house from a lot further away, and hasn’t uttered a word about me not paying for gas.

Yet.

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