I matched with Richard on my first day.
Fifty-two years old. CEO of a tech company. Recently divorced. Looking for "companionship without complications."
He was handsome in that silver-fox way. Charming. Generous. Our first date was dinner at a restaurant where the menu had no prices. He paid my rent that night without me asking.
"You remind me of someone," he said, studying my face. "I can't figure out who."
"Someone good, I hope."
He smiled. "Someone I lost a long time ago."
I didn't ask more. In sugar dating, you don't pry. You smile, you're grateful, you don't complicate things.
The arrangement was simple. We met twice a week. Dinner, sometimes a show, occasionally his penthouse. He was kind, gentle, never pushed boundaries. The physical stuff came later — my choice, not his.