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.”
With 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.
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.”