sh-sh-sh-sugar daddy

’m lucky enough to have a sugar daddy/friend/arrangement where Bill the Hobbyist treats me like a princess and we hang out (surprise, we don’t fuck, he just likes to spoil me) and I try not to be a huge brat in that time frame. Bill and I went to Virginia Beach a few weeks ago and he really spoiled the shit out of me. Not only did he pay for the vacation and my transportation, but he also handed my a fairly large sum of money to play with. So, I figured when he came up here this month for my best friend’s birthday he’d probably just take me to dinner and stop by the club and we’d go to the party. BUT not only is he bringing me a neon pink stripper pole, he sent me a text today asking me to call him. First thing he says is “Hi, uhhhhh…you wanna go shopping before Taylor’s party? I know you really hate it, but I thought I’d offer.” He knows I have a huge shopping problem and can’t help myself and am a total hoarder and just love THINGS. I feel like the luckiest sugar baby sometimes.