From Random Nights to Real Connections
After Pierre, the floodgates opened. I met so many people — random, mostly anonymous hookups through apps, Twitter DMs, and the occasional daring reply to a filthy comment. Most were average: quick, mechanical, forgettable. A few were genuinely good — guys who knew how to take their time, make me feel desired, leave me sore in the best way. And a handful were bad: rushed, selfish, or just awkward enough to make me delete the chat and block the number the second I got home. With Daddy, things stayed sacred. He always gave me at least a week’s notice before our meets, so during those weeks I kept myself clean — no strangers, no risks, just anticipation building until the day he finally claimed me again. The rest of the time? I explored. The money from those random hookups added up quietly. I spent it on things that made me feel more like her: realistic dildoes in different sizes, pretty dresses from online shops, a sleek eyeliner pencil, and my own MAC lipstick in that perfect soft ...