— Yes, Mom
— I told you not to call me that!
— Sorry, couldn’t hold myself.
I always wanted to see her blush, frown, change the tone of voice. To argue with me. To see my value. To beg me not do anything outrageous To care about me. The thing is, I cared about her. But she didn’t give a shit about this kid.
She looks irritated. Maybe I play with her too much.
She meditates. Always. I couldn’t get through. Any time I picked at her—she just exhaled and closed her eyes.
She meditates. Sometimes. It never helps. She snaps at me. My Princess.
In all her life—I bet—she didn’t hear “no.” And I’m her small brat toy. She enjoys my provocations. But they also eat at her.
— So I met this girl yesterday. She was so infantile. It was somewhat alluring…
Of course she bit the bait. There seem to be new veins exploding in her eyes. Jealousy. The hottest sauce I tasted. Always like the first time. Always delish.
Her eyes scream. Her mouth opens, as if to expose my lie. But her panicked breathing shows she doesn’t know: Am I to leave her for some fresh-assed lass?
— Yeah, whatever, it’s your life — she just doesn’t care. Oh, I want her to jump at me and start kissing me. To turn me against this girl. Make me stay in her instead. Always by her side. Always her lovely kid.
I don’t remember how we met. Was too long ago. Her smile. Her touch. These eyelashes fluttering for me. Her chest rising for me. Hips embracing me. Only once. Long ago.
Hips, lips, sweet sweat somehow. The possessive gaze. The artificial eyelashes. Pretty for me and just for me. CEOs always look slightly distraught. Her too. Except for me. At all times.
We met recently. She was both spectacular and tired. And craving something. Me. I’m a thing now. Not that I cared. I like her. And gifts. And sex. And dates. It’s a good arrangement. Sweet and at times spicy.
And boring.
Wanted just one thing—for her to fuck me. Am I asking too much? Just this once, for your kid?
All I wanted was for her to replace my love. My mother.
In this diary entry, my Sugar Mommy is marked as SM, and my biological mother is marked as M. Leaving this for future me to not get confused.
CC-BY 4.0 2022-2026 by Artyom Bologov (aartaka,) with one commit remixing Claude-generated code. Any and all opinions listed here are my own and not representative of my employers; future, past and present.