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SUGAR MAMA (1)

“Food is love” goes a popular saying, and no one knows that better than me, though I might change it to “food is love and sex and friendship and seduction.” I can’t seem to ever visit anyone or have a date without wanting to feed my lover, and the sweeter the offering, the better.

It’s not just the Jewish mother in me that gets off on serving up delectable goodies along with my voluminous breasts and eager-to-please mouth. It’s more that I want my lovers to be fully satisfied; I want to fill them up in every way I know how.

I want to make them scream and moan and smile and purr, want to offer them my body to suckle and taste, but when they’re done with me, I want to give them something more—something sweet, something they can savor, that will stay on their tongues after our kisses end and remind them of the good times we’ve had. I’m like that even with friends, but with lovers, I become a sugar mama par excellence.

Take my latest boyfriend, Todd. We met at a wine tasting, where we s
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