Call Me Anna (A Sugar Baby’s Tale)

I’ve just returned from an 18 month stint playing my version of Anna Nicole Smith — in all the very best ways, I assure you!

Like Anna, I played companion to an ailing older gentlemen. Unlike Anna, I was up front about the money, that this was a sugar baby / sugar daddy relationship. Yes, I had affection for him; but I was not “in love,” nor did we have sex. I don’t think he was actually capable of that any longer… But he did teasingly try a few times anyway. *wink*

He called me “His Anna.” And I called him, “Daddy.” Right up until the day we parted. Which was just 36 hours ago. He gave me my last sugar baby cash gift and said he was ready to part — that he was going to hospice. And we both knew that my presence among family would be deemed inappropriate…

Though, in truth, none of his family bothered to spend time with him; not even via the phone. Had I not known otherwise from his stories and his friends, I would not have known he had family alive — let alone children. That is my only complaint really — complaints for him, not about him.

We strolled as long as he was able; then I wheeled him. We laughed — a lot. He told me stories — always afraid they would bore me. But I always found them entertaining — and, like any wise sugar baby, I learned from them.

Earlier today, a mutual friend told me “Daddy” had passed.

And I miss him, more than a bit… I expect I shall for quite some time.

I think he would like that.

But he would definitely not want me to be unhappy.

After all, my laughter was one of the things he adored most about me.

Often, with me on his knee (or, in the last few months, seated next to him), Daddy would tell his friends, “Now, I took one look at My Anna and fell for her pretty blonde hair, her perky breasts, and all the proper (or is that “improper”?!) jiggles.” He’d pause a moment for comedic affect before continuing. “But I adore Caitlin for her companionship and her giggles! So, boys, remember, a beautiful girl is great — but a fun girl is the best.”

caitlin-lingerie-stocking-girlWith his most intimate circle of friends, he would wax more poetically… He would clasp my hand, and hold it dear, saying, “Blondes should have more fun. They are the most coveted, so they ought to be the most appreciated, the most pampered.” He typically punctuated that last line with a kiss on my hand.

I can honestly attest to the fact that blondes are most sought after; and, when properly treated, we do have the most fun. (If you don’t believe me, these Sydney escorts can fill you in.)

And Daddy would say that’s all the proper economics of being blonde: The rare & sought after ought to be treated as more than just a conquest, but a gift one strives to keep.

So I never felt abused or used in anyway with Daddy. He always treated me with an affectionate yet respectful reverence.

Now that Daddy has gone, I shall likely return to the phones… Though I see somethings have changed… So I shall likely change my options / offerings… But I shall worry about that later.

For now, I shall just enjoy some quiet time with all of my critters — including the new Russian Blue that Daddy gave me.

And whenever I feel a bit too sad, I shall paint… And then do something to laugh. Because that’s the best way to honor Daddy.

“Goodbye, Daddy, from Your Anna.”

Swearing Off Younger Guys

This post is as much of a reminder to myself as it is a notice to you all: Caitlin no longer wishes to entertain real life relationships or even dalliances with younger men (those around my own age).

To Wit:

Younger men are silly, vapid, poor, and have nothing to teach me (save for how to break a heart) and are not worth my time.

Beer is no substitute for relaxing.

“Kick the dog” mentality is not to be tolerated as it leads to actual kicking of dogs and other beings.

“Passion” is not to be confused with anger.

“Laid back” typically means dull and uninteresting.

“Give and take” means you participate in both, not just the taking.

Yes, my heart was broken. But I am over it — and him — now and life will resume as I envision it.

Give Me A Hand

I promise I won’t talk a lot about art (my work or the subject in general), but it applies here in several ways at the moment as I’ve been “away” from here working on several projects — projects which are to be Valentine’s Day gifts.

It’s surprising what one person finds romantic or sentimental. Of course, after you hear the story you are likely to agree with their selection as well as their sentiments; but “what is romantic” is as subjective as “what is sexy.” For me, sexy and romantic are so entwined it’s nearly impossible to separate the two. And one of the most romantic and sexy things, aside from lingerie, of course, are hands.

Hands are expressive, they create, and they are at once intimate and on display… It makes a girl like me wonder about all the possibilities. Such a tease!

Photos like these (jazz musician hands by LIFE photographer Gjon Mili), also make me think of naughty little puns, like “Pluck my strings, baby!” and “Ooooh, tickle my ivories!”