What do you do when the wife in the married couple you’re sugar dating asks if you’ll accompany her first class to Shanghai, just the two of you? You tell her, “Fuck yes!” then scramble to make up a lie for your very religious family, convincing them you’re her personal assistant and she needs you in China for cliteral—er, clerical support. Next, obviously, you work out your rate for the trip and pack your bag full of vibrators.
Hannah* was a gorgeous strawberry-blonde woman in her late 40s married to her high school sweetheart Brian*, with whom she ran a successful tile* business. I was a hot, broke writer half their age and totally new to living out my sex-work fantasies. We met on Seeking (the name-brand sugar dating site) and struck up a fabulous arrangement: She and I took yoga classes together a few times a week, occasionally the three of us hooked up, and my bank account was healthy for the first time in my life.
It wasn’t long before Hannah and I craved some sexploration, woman to woman. But everywhere we turned, there was Brian with his big, beautiful cock ready to join in—almost comically so. Hannah had a brilliant solution: There was a tile convention coming up in Shanghai, and she could really “use my help” while there.
Brian totally bought it. By 9 a.m. the morning of our departure, we were in the first-class lounge at LAX sipping champagne and eating sushi, just us girls. I was tipsy-excited, daydreaming about being a tourist in two places at once: Shanghai and the Good Life.
But I was going to be a tourist in a third place as well: Strictly Sapphic Sexland—at least as an adult. As a kid, I had visited very naturally, finding myself orgasming with other girls, rolling around and realizing we could bump into each other in ways that felt very satisfying, even if we didn’t understand it as sexual yet. But as an adult, I had made the classic recovering Catholic move of repressing my sexuality. You know, the “Hide Your True Self Because You’re Basically a Sin for Existing” move they teach you in Sunday school. Until now.
We reached cruising altitude and I put my leather chair in its fully flat bed mode—’cause I could, bitch—then stayed awake the whole time you’re supposed to sleep, soaking up every second of my newfound luxury life. I could get used to this, I thought as the flight attendant served me a hot-fudge sundae and I clicked play on a third movie.
Inside our 5-star hotel suite bigger than my apartment, we had sweeping views of the glimmering Shanghai skyline. There was fresh lychee on the dining table, and both bathrooms’ toilets had heated, light-up bidets built in. I went to pee and had a full-circle moment: Just months ago, I was busting my ass cleaning bathrooms for minimum wage, and now I was getting paid to have my ass warmed while I pissed. Ha! The power surge of being a sugar baby to this degree was the best aphrodisiac I’d found yet. I was living my real-life, lesbian Cinderella story, and there was no stopping my rise to the throne.
I heard water running and came out to catch the most arousing glimpse of Hannah’s delicious ass as she stepped into the rainfall shower. She took very good care of her body, proud to be a MILF and deservedly so. I knew we were officially here to work, but I wanted a taste of our unofficial reason for flying halfway around the world together.
“May I join you?” I asked like a good girl.
“You better,” Hannah commanded.
I loved how in control of me she could be. She was making the plans, paying the bills, and looking hot while doing it; I was following along and getting richer. I let out a sigh and grabbed her waist, pulling us chest to chest under the warm water. Closing my eyes, I found my way to her lips, which felt equal parts soothing and stimulating to kiss. I started squeezing her ass when she suddenly stopped me.
“Ah-ah-ah, we have a big day ahead of us,” she said, reaching down and patting my pussy. “Let’s get going.”
I actually didn’t mind delaying our play because I was a bit nervous. Will I be able to get her off without a live cock involved? I worried, wondering the same for myself. I wasn’t sure if my adolescent instincts would still “work” with other women, but I knew I’d have my answer soon enough. We dried off, got dressed, and headed to the convention.
After an honest day’s work sourcing tile after tile, we earned our celebratory drinks and headed to a glitzy bar overlooking the Huangpu River. We ordered some sort of lychee martinis that the bartender served with fog from dry ice and we made disappear with little effort. I was feeling just the right amount of what-day-is-it-even? to end our edging and find out how gay I really was, when Hannah conveniently called us a car.
“Come on, you,” she teased. “We have a little more ‘business’ to attend to back at the hotel.”
My heart was racing as the suite door shut behind us, and suddenly, I was pinned against the foyer wall. Hannah was shorter than me but totally capable of putting me where she wanted. She kissed me intensely as she pushed my shoulders back, summoning my submissive side forward. Much to my relief, my body knew exactly what to do. There’s no need to be worried, my pussy purred as I fondled Hannah’s tits. She reached down and grabbed my skirt, sliding it up my ass to reveal my black strappy panties.
“Did you put these on for me?” she grinned, pulling on one of the straps and letting it snap back to sting the skin on my hip. I winced.
“Mm-hmm,” I nodded, giving puppy-dog eyes.
“Good girl. Let’s take a look at you….” She grabbed my hand from her breasts and led me to the lush California king bed—a subconscious reminder that I was in L.A. just hours ago. She stripped me down to my lingerie, unbuttoning her own shirt as she instructed me to lie down.
I did as I was told, reclining on the insanely soft sheets. The euphoria of mixing business and pleasure, combined with the exhilaration of girl-on-girl touch, was brewing a perfect storm for my pussy—a forecast of heavy rain and lightning as Hannah kneeled above me, slowly pulling my panties down to my ankles. She warmed her hands for me, then gently tested my hole for wetness. Her face lit up.
“Oh, look at you,” she said, like I was something to be proud of. She licked her fingers, then gently spread me open and inserted two of them. “Look how ready you are for me,” she whispered, sliding herself in a little deeper. “So juicy, good girl.”
I laid back in ecstasy. I was being praised, penetrated, and paid—tipsy on lychee, high on life, and wetter at every “Oh, that’s a good girl” she uttered. But I couldn’t take it much longer—I needed to give a little before receiving any more.
“Be right back,” I said, leaving to grab one of my vibrators. “I need you in my mouth.”
When I returned, Hannah was lying fully naked, touching herself. I knelt between her open legs and pressed my toy to my clit, firing off my pleasure sensors like crazy, and started kissing her neck. Moaning as I made my way down her toned body, I landed my face in the crease where her thigh met her hip and licked along it, teasing her for a moment. I mouthed her mound with soft lips, then dove in at last, sucking her clit to mirror the sensation my toy was giving me, totally losing myself in her perfect pussy. She was so easy to take in, so supple and flowy compared to Brian’s seriously giant cock.
“That’s it,” she whined, putting her trust in my tongue. “Keep going. I’m right there….”
Eager to obey, I kept going, sucking just a little harder and turning my vibrator up to match. You’ve treated me so well. Let me help you feel good now, I telepathically told her pussy. I was getting off on thanking her in this way—my money kink at its finest.
“I’m so close!” she cried out between pleasurable gasps for air.
So was I. We were tethered, my toy on me mimicking my mouth on her like we temporarily shared a pulse. And as our pulse quickened to the point of no return, I gloriously lost control, letting out a screaming orgasm straight into her pussy.
My sound waves were the last push she needed, blasting her off to join me in the second half of my climax. She grabbed my head, weaving her fingers into my hair and tilting her pelvis so she could melt even further into my mouth. I felt her surge with warmth and wetness and we stayed right there, reverberating together while time froze just for us.
“Mmm,” I hummed into her, all jello-y on my descent.
We were exhausted in the best way as we lay tracing our fingers along each other’s curves, basking in our afterglow. I rested my head on her thigh, thinking how nice it was without the elephant (cock) in the room and how I definitely wanted more where that came from.
For the next two days, Hannah and I got to have as much as we wanted of each other with no penile interruptions, and I got to see just how fun it is to play rich. When we got back to the States, I knew I had tapped into the next level in the game of life. I was American Airlines Gold status now, bitch, and I was never going back.
*Names and identifying details have been changed.
GG Sauvage is a writer and all-around artist on a mission to f*ck shame away and empower people with self-love. She designed The Sexiest Deck Alive: Erotic Oracle Cards to Turn You On & Help You Turn the Corner, co-hosts the Basic Witches podcast, and wrote the audio drama Sex and the Synchronicity. See her work at Refinery29, Vogue Italia, Vulture, CollegeHumor, and WhoHaHa, and check out her website for more!
