7

It's 6.20pm. I make sure I'm early today.

I went home at 1pm sharp, showered (by showered I mean scrubbed every inch of my body, slapped a rich body butter, shampooed and deep-conditioned my hair, shaved at all the places that needed to be shaved), got dressed into the outfit I planned with Abby last night, did my hair, put on make up, perfected my hairdo since the first time felt imperfect (or I was just too nervous I had to pick on something), and finally, drove here with the infamous Honda Civic.

Standing at the visitor parking bay of the location mentioned in Appendix 1, I am still deciding if I should go up or drive home.

If I should be a sugar baby, or just forget about selling my body but go on the conventional route instead; meet a guy, go on a date, be his girlfriend, then his fiancee, bring him to see my parents, marry him, and only then bed him.

I mean sex him.

See how rusty I am in this game? You can't blame me, it's been four years since I'm in a relationship with a m