Booty Shorts - Sugar Daddy

"I'm sorry," Charlie said, clearly embarrassed. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"It's fine. As long as you understand how exhausting it can be for people of color to be constantly othered in this country, intentionally or not. Korea isn't my homeland. I don't have dual loyalties or anything like that."

"You're right, I'm sorry," Charlie said again. "I certainly didn't mean to make you feel that way. It was a poor choice of words."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them for the first time since they'd met in the coffee shop in Hancock Park.

"Anyway," Monica said, trying to break the tension, "I would like to go to South Korea, but just because I love to travel and I could mark another country off my list. I've only been to Mexico and Costa Rica anyway."

"I love to travel too. One of the perks of owning my own company, that's for sure. I'm going to London and Prague in a few weeks."

"Oh, jealous!" Monica said while reaching for another piece of sushi, "I think I'm going to have to get out soon, I'm a prune."

"But I haven't shown you this tub's best feature yet!" Charlie protested.

"What's that?"

"C'mere."

Charlie coached Monica into the position she wanted, legs up on the side of the tub, leaning back with Charlie cradling her against her breasts. Charlie reached over and switched the jets back on.

"What are—whoa!" Monica yelled as the jets Charlie had positioned her in front of sent a powerful stream of water over her clit.

"See?" Charlie purred. "Before you came along this tub was my best friend."

A distant corner of Monica's mind noted that statement implied that she was Charlie's best friend now, but the pulsating sensations of the jet quickly washed away coherent thoughts.

"Oh my god, Charlie!Oh my god!" Monica screamed as the jet drove an orgasm through her like a spear. She'd had bigger, more intense ones, but never one that quickly.

"My personal record is being able to stay there for three without bailing out. Think you can beat me?" Charlie purred in her ear, holding her in place as she squirmed from the intense stimulation.

Monica was nothing if not competitive. "If I can stay here for four, what do I win?" she said, through gasping breaths.

~~~

"I'm sorry I could only do the one night," Monica said as they walked through the lobby.

"No worries. I told you I'm happy to work around your commitments."

"I hope you feel you got your money's worth." They stopped outside the hotel entrance.

"Totally," Charlie said, then reached over to push the corner of the white envelope deeper into Monica's bag. "Careful you don't lose track of that."

"I won't. Thanks for the advice on how to handle it."

Charlie had told Monica she shouldn't make a regular cash deposit of five thousand into her bank account every month, as that was the sort of thing that could attract the attention of the IRS. Especially since, as underfunded as that agency was, they tended to go after low earners, because they couldn't afford pricey lawyers to make tax trouble go away. Instead, she'd use it to pay her rent in cash and spend most of the rest of it on groceries, clothes or other consumables. The money from her regular job that would have gone to rent would instead go into an investment account she'd set up. Charlie had told her of several funds to invest in that would provide good returns without having to pay much attention to them. She'd even offered to sell Monica some shares in her managed fund.

"That's what I do. If I ever want to remodel my apartment you can be my designer."

"Deal!" Monica stuck out her hand and shook Charlie's exaggeratedly as if striking an accord. Charlie laughed.

"You look really cute in your work outfit by the way."

"You think?" Monica said, looking down at herself. She was in her usual attire for a day on set, comfortable shoes, a loose t-shirt and cargo pants, festooned with pockets and loops for carrying tools and props. "Not exactly a Coco Chanel business suit," she said, indicating the black pantsuit Charlie was wearing.

"Pfft, fancy suits are all I see most days. It's nice to see someone in an outfit that really tells you something about a job they love."

"Aww, that's sweet. Thanks."

"I gotta go. So do you. I'll see you in October."

Charlie stepped closer to Monica and kissed her. Monica appreciated how little Charlie seemed to be concerned with the bellman who was patiently holding the door to Charlie's car and conspicuously not looking at them.

"Here," Charlie pressed something into her palm, "for the cab."

She walked to her car, stopping briefly to ask the bellman to hail a cab for Monica. She turned and gave Monica a brilliant smile before disappearing into the limo.

Monica looked down at the hundred dollar bill in her hand. She appreciated the thought, but for some reason that she couldn't quite put a finger on, it didn't make her feel right. She tried to shake off the feeling.

Pretty hypocritical to feel like I'm cheap because she gave me cab fare after I took five gees from her for a night of sex, she thought to herself as she got into the cab.

"Warner Studios, please."

~~~ October ~~~

"Hey coach, do you have a minute?"

Charlie turned from the hotel window.

Monica had emerged from the suite's bedroom, wearing a blue and gold plaid skirt and a matching blue polo shirt with a gold collar. UCLA was embroidered above her left breast.

"Coach?" Charlie asked with a laugh. She hadn't known Monica was going to change when she'd gone to the bathroom. Or that she'd brought her field hockey uniform like she'd suggested she would the month before.

Monica didn't break character.

"Listen, coach, I know I missed practice," she said, as she sauntered over to join Charlie at the window, "But I really don't want to lose my starting spot. Isn't there anything I can do to change your mind?" She reached out and caressed Charlie's breast through her blouse.

Charlie sucked in an appreciative breath, as the realization of the game they were playing dawned on her.

"Miss Choi, how would it look if I gave you special treatment? I can't let one of my starters skip practice without consequences. It would be terrible for team discipline."

"Oh I know, coach." Monica's voice had taken on a schoolgirl tone. "There should definitely be consequences."

She turned and put one hand flat against the window, using the other to slowly lift the skirt, revealing a pair of gold panties that matched the rest of the outfit.

"C'mon, put me in coach! I'm ready to play!," Monica cooed.

Charlie smothered a laugh, trying not to break character. She was certain Monica had never worn a skimpy thong like this while competing on the field. She moved behind Monica, her hands running over the sheer material and the smooth globes of Monica's ass.

"Skipping practice is a sign of disrespect, Miss Choi. Both to your teammates and to me!" She sharply slapped one of Monica's cheeks.

Monica play-acted the shy student, flinching and whimpering.

"I'm sorry Coach! It won't happen again. Please don't bench me! I'll do anything!"

Charlie slapped the other cheek and Monica jumped, swallowing another yelp.

Charlie reached around to caress Monica's small breasts. The hard nipples that poked into her palms announced that there was no bra under the shirt. She gave them a pinch, eliciting a hiss of pleasure.

"Coach? M... maybe you should get that... thing... we talked about?"

"Thing?" Charlie was momentarily confused.

"The thing... that we were texting about last week?"

"Ah, the thing." Charlie's voice held a smile. The thing.

She took Monica's hand and guided it under her skirt and into the tight yellow thong.

"You stay right here, Miss Choi. Don't move and don't stop touching yourself until I return. Understand? If you move, you're benched Saturday."

"Yes, coach!" Monica moaned.

Monica watched the lights of the city and slowly rubbed herself, trying not to come. A few minutes later, Monica sensed Charlie's presence behind her again and felt her thong being slid down. Charlie left the scrap of silk at Monica's mid-thigh.

"You'll do anything to start the next game Miss Choi?"

"Anything, coach! I'll be good! I'll be—ah!" Monica cried out as the thick head of the strap-on entered her from behind. She felt Charlie's hips press against her ass as it sunk fully into her.

Charlie grabbed a fistful of Monica's hair, pulling her head back. The other hand gripped Monica's hip, started thrusting into her. Monica's two inch height advantage made for the perfect angle.

"You're a bad girl! Skipping practice! You're not even wearing regulation underwear under your skirt, Miss Choi!" She emphasized the words with hard thrusts.

"I'm sorry coach! It won't happen again! Please, put me in the game, Coach! Oh god, fuck me! Fuck me coach! Yes! Yes coach!"

As she came, she quivered, crying out and squeezing her legs together, the thong sliding down and dropping to her ankles. Charlie kept thrusting but quickly Monica's knees were shaking too hard and she slowly sank to the floor. Charlie tried to stay in her, but the dildo pulled out when Monica fell completely to her stomach and stretched out prostrate on the carpet, her face pressed against the bottom of the window.

Charlie straddled her hips, pressing the head of the dildo into her opening again.

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck! Oh, fuck!" Monica cried out, then let out a guttural groan, her voice dropping an octave. "Oh my God, Charlie! I mean, coach! Oh my God! Keep fucking me coach! Don't ever stop fucking me!"

Her words devolved into unintelligible sounds, rising to a scream as she came again, her butt fighting to raise itself off the floor and pressing hard up into Charlie.

Afterwards, they both lay panting for several minutes.

"Thanks coach," Monica finally managed to get out.

"I trust we'll have no more bad behavior, Miss Choi?"

"No way, coach. Imma be a good girl."

"I just had a thought," Charlie said, sliding off Monica and dropping to the floor.

"What's that?"

"Halloween is the day after tomorrow. Think the UCLA bookstore has a coach's tracksuit we could pick up for me? I'd love an excuse for you to wear that out clubbing."

~~~ November ~~~

"Hey, I have bad news and fantastic news. Which do you want first?"

Monica had been thrilled to see Charlie calling from New York, the timing couldn't have been better. She was beside herself with excitement.

"Oh my god Charlie I have the best news myself! I just got hired as the set designer for a sitcom pilot at the Warner Brothers lot!"

"That's great! But isn't that already what you were doing?"

"No! I've been a set dresser. Just decorating a set someone else designed and built. I get to design this set myself, then direct the crew building it! I'll be working with the director and get to hire my own set dressers! This is huge!"

"How does that work? You said it's a pilot. Does that mean I'll get to see your work on TV?"

"Maybe. Ninety-five percent of pilots are never ordered to series. But if it goes, I could get the full time gig! Even if it doesn't go I'll have the pilot tape as a demo of my work and a credit on IMDB!

"That's great Monica!"

"Oh my god, I'm so pumped!

"I'm so happy for you!"

"What's your news?"

"Well the bad news is I'm not coming to L.A. this month, something's come up."

"Oh no!"

"Don't worry, I'll still make sure you get your monthly gift."

Monica was surprised too realize that it wasn't the money she was disappointed over. She'd really been looking forward to another weekend with Charlie.

"It's fine, you don't have to."

"Don't be silly. I'll FedEx it to you."

"Well, okay. Thanks. So what came up?"

"That's the fantastic news, my tech incubator has started a new project and we're partnering with a company in Seoul. So I'm flying over there to meet the startup founders and sign the paperwork!"

"Hey, that's great! That's funny, how we were just talking about traveling there last month."

"I know right? Wanna come?"

"You're kidding. Really!? When?"

"I'm leaving this weekend. I could fly to LAX Friday, meet you there and we could fly over together."

"Oh shoot, no I can't. I'm actually starting pre-production tomorrow. I'm going to be going flat out for the next two weeks."

"You sure? Once in a lifetime chance."

"I know, but so's this job, Charlie. This is the break I've been waiting for."

"You said that ninety-five percent of pilots don't get ordered. Are you sure?"

Monica could feel herself getting mad, but tried to keep hold of her tongue. "It's really nice that you offered, but I'll have to pass."

"Is it the money? Tell you what, I'll match what they're paying you to be my travel partner."

Red flared in Monica's vision.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"Uh..."

"Charlie this is the career break I've been waiting for since college. I'm not going to throw it away to go joyriding around Asia with my sugar daddy!"

"I... I..."

"If fact, if the only thing you see me as is your plaything to be bought and paid for, then I don't need this shit anymore. I'm deserve more respect than that Charlie! I have my own life and goals and you can't just wave money at people and have them drop everything that's important to them to make you happy. Jesus."

"Monica, I'm sorry I didn't mean—"

"You know what? We both said we could end this at any time and maybe this is a good place to break it off. Thanks for everything."

Monica ended the call, seething.

The fucking nerve! To think I'd just throw away my big break for a trip overseas and a sex romp. She probably thought I wouldn't be able to pass it up because it's my "homeland"!

Her phone rang in her hand. It was Charlie. She let it go to voicemail.

I really thought we'd gotten to know each other. How could she think I'd be the sort of person who'd drop a chance like this because she waved some cash at me.

Several texts lit up the screen. Charlie. She ignored them.

Because you've been letting her pay you to have sex with her. Why wouldn't she think that?

She realized she'd engineered the circumstances that had resulted in this situation. She was selling her body to Charlie. Why wouldn't Charlie think that she had the first option on her time if the price was right?

Fuck, I was just mad and wanted to hurt her like she hurt me, but I really think ending this arrangement is probably the right thing to do. I have no one to blame but myself for this. Shit.

She ignored Charlie's groveling texts and voicemails, begging her to answer the phone or call her back. It was hard. There were a lot of them.

She cried herself to sleep that night.

~~~

The next day Monica threw herself into her new job. In a development that didn't bode well for any future employees of hers, she discovered that she was incredibly creative and productive when she was angry and depressed.

She'd provided her concept during her interview, so she had a place to start. By lunchtime she'd sketched out her entire construction design, drafted the job descriptions for the assistants she needed to hire and started the purchase orders for everything she needed that the studio didn't have on hand.

"Hey Mon?" One of the PA's interrupted her train of thought while she was pouring over a props catalog.

"What?" She snapped, then took a deep breath to get a grip. "Sorry, what do you need?"

"Front gate called. You've got a delivery."

"Could you go pick it up for me?" She didn't think any of her orders should have gotten here yet. Even if they had, she wouldn't be ready to start building for another day or two.

"Nah, they said it's something you have to sign for personally."

"What is it?"

"Didn't ask."

She sighed in frustration. She'd been in such a groove, she didn't want to take time to run all the way up to the front gate. But there was nothing for it. If it was some specialty item she'd ordered and it got sent back it would be a pain in her ass.

Outside the soundstage, she jumped into one of the ubiquitous golf carts found parked all over the studio and raced through the alleys between the sea of square, anonymous buildings, each one hiding a different fantasyland within.

She screeched the cart to a stop at the front gate, parking crookedly next to the guard shack and called out to the two men working the booth as she climbed out of the cart.

"Hey, someone got a delivery here for Monica Choi? Said I have to sign for it?"

"Monica!"

Monica did a double take.

"Charlie? What are you doing here?! You're in New York!"

Charlie was standing beside the guard shack holding a ridiculously large bouquet of roses. She was in casual clothes for once, her outfit reminding Monica of the one she'd worn in the first picture she'd sent when they started flirting online.

"Well, you wouldn't answer your phone or call me back so I had to come out here to tell you what a big honking idiot I am, and I don't know where you live but you said you'd be on the Warner lot today so I did the only thing I could think of to get you to listen to me for one minute!" Charlie had to pause her soliloquy to take a breath.

Monica wanted to yell at her, wanted to still be mad. But after twenty four hours to cool off, something in the look on Charlie's face made her hold back.

"Okay, one minute. Go."

"Monica, I am such a fool. I completely minimized your career and it was stupid and thoughtless. The truth is I was so excited about the idea of getting to have you come with me on an overseas trip that I didn't listen to your reasons for not going and just stupidly plowed ahead, trying to get my way. I know you have a career you've worked hard for and I know this is a huge break. You'd be stupid to give it up for a stupid trip with me. I'm a stupid idiot, I have zero excuse for the way I behaved and I hope you can forgive me."

Monica pursed her lips, staring pensively at Charlie. The silence was too much for Charlie.

"Please, say something Monica!"

"That... that was a really good apology."

Charlie gave a little bounce of excitement. "So... are we...?"

"We're... okay. Provisionally. You're on double-secret probation."

"Oh, thank God!"

Charlie rushed to close the gap between them, pulling Monica into an embrace.

"I'm so sorry that I hurt you!" Charlie's voice was muffled, her face buried against Monica's shoulder.

"I—pftt, thbth, *cough*."

Charlie loosened her grip just enough to look up and see Monica spit out a rose petal from the bouquet that Charlie had accidentally mashed into her face when she'd sandwiched it between them.

"Sorry."

"Where did you get these?"

"The florist near my apartment."

"You carried these through the TSA checkpoint and all the way from New York in business class?"

"Well... no."

"Huh?"

"I couldn't get a flight that would get me here until late tonight so I chartered a jet."

"Charlie!"

"What?"

"How much did you spend to get here?"

"Not entirely sure. I think about thirty-eight. I had our corporate travel agent book it for me while I was on the way to JFK."