Page 4 of Double Mountain Men

“I don’t know,” I say helplessly. “Maybe? Yes?”

Jenna smiles mysteriously while biting into her croissant again, her expression serene and unbothered. She’s the picture ofhealth, and practically glowing from the effects of nutritious food, regular exercise, and professional pampering. Meanwhile, I know I look the opposite. My straggly hair is a dirty grey-blonde color; I’m wearing glasses because I’m running low on disposable contacts; and my outfit is second hand, including a patched brown sweater and overly-large slacks. Basically, I look like a hobo, while my friend looks like a perfect princess.

But Jenna and I are buddies. We’re closer than some sisters, and she would never look down on me. As a result, the pretty blonde shoots me a kind look.

“Just think about it, okay, Misty? You don’t have to make a decision now. Just remember that it’s not a crime to enjoy life. It’s not wrong to enjoy the company of men, and it’s not wrong to get paid for it either. The site is called Sweet Lies, so take a look when you have a sec. There’s no harm in looking!” she sings. Then, Jenna glances at a blingy white watch on her wrist. “Oh my god, it’s almost time for my yoga class! Okay, girlfriend, I need to roll, but let’s talk soon!” she says before blowing me a kiss.

Then, my svelte buddy is out the door, with half the men in the café watching as she walks down the street with her golden ponytail bouncing up and down. I can see why Jenna would be a hit on a sugar daddy site. She’s young, gorgeous, and playful, as well as clever, smart, and witty. What man wouldn’t pay a thousand dollars for dinner with Jenna? Hell, they’re paying even more, judging from what she said about tips.

But I can’t do it. Slowly, I get up and hoist my book bag over one shoulder before busing my coffee cup and plate. I’m just mousy Misty Earnshaw, with my thick glasses and shabby clothes. I’m far too shy to do something bold like signing up for a sugardaddy website, and besides ... no one would hire me, much less a handsome alpha male.

2

Misty

Still, curiosity killed the cat, and when I get home later that night, I decide to check out Sweet Lies.

“What a name,” I murmur to myself as my laptop fires up. “They might as well call it Ashley Madison while they’re at it.” I click the button that certifies that I’m 18, halfway expecting pictures of naked people to pop up.

But instead, the site directs me to create a profile first. Hmm, fine. I get it. They don’t want people browsing for shits and giggles. As a result, I make up the username “Misty_18” and then upload a profile picture of myself from last year. It’s not sultry. It’s from our senior year trip, and I’m wearing a demure sundress while holding a bouquet of flowers. I look happy as my blonde tresses blow in the breeze. My cheeks are flushed and my smile radiant as the sun casts me in a golden glow. It’s perfect. Pretty, innocent, and not sexy at all, which is what I want.

After adding a bit of text, my profile is finished and the site admits me to its main page.

What are you looking for?a pop-up prompts. Immediately, I click “Men only.” No need to dither over that selection.

Then, a bunch of profiles populate my screen, and I recognize my mistake immediately because none of the male profiles have faces attached. Instead, most of them are torso or full body shots, revealing bronze chests, six pack abs, and thick, muscular thighs. The men are sculpted and masculine, like a collection of headless Greek gods. Oh my god, what was I thinking, including my face in the photo? How could I be so naïve?

But then I remember that my profile is private, so I’m safe. No one knows that Misty_18 is me. In fact, no one even knows I’m on the site at the moment. Relieved, I begin to click around.

Shockingly, what Jenna said is true. Many of the men seem to be looking for platonic dates. There are quite a few men looking for dinner companions, buddies for movie showings, and women to accompany them to musical concerts. There’s even one man offering Taylor Swift concert tickets! Wow, he’s probably getting a lot of hits.

But there are bizarre postings too. They’re weird, and I’m not sure what to make of them. For example, one guy is asking to watch a sugar baby get dressed in the morning, while another wants to watch her brush her hair. Are these people serious? I squint to read his accompanying text, and to my surprise, this guy isn’t even looking to meet in person. He just wants to watch a woman brush her hair over Zoom ...and he’s willing to pay five hundred dollars for the experience.

My eyes pop open as I jerk forward with surprise. I didn’t know virtual dates were an option! For some reason, I thought that everything would be in person because with the site’s sky-high prices, I thought the clients would expect white-glove service. But evidently, Zoom is a very real possibility.

Suddenly, my interest level ratchets up because on-line dates are definitely doable. I wouldn’t be in any danger at all. In fact, I’d be sitting in my dorm room the entire time, safe and sound, wearing pajamas while conversing with a man through the screen. Sure, he’d see my face and I’d probably have to call him “Daddy,” but for five hundred bucks, I’m willing to chance it. Why not? My heart starts racing as I begin browsing through the site in earnest. This could be the answer to my current financial problems.

My eyes scan the profiles, looking for the perfect opportunity. Then, I see it. There’s one in the bottom corner of the screen, and like the others, the profile pic consists of a rugged masculine chest ripped with muscle. The pecs are heavy and slab-like, and there’s a full six pack beneath it, as a trail of dark hair arrows towards the waistband of his jeans. Yummy. Even better, Mountain_Daddy is terse and to the point when it comes to his ad.

Looking for my princess, he writes.I want to watch you apply make-up as you get ready to go out. Zoom only. Compensation $500.

Immediately, I click “Connect with this user,” before typing a short intro about myself.

Hi!I respond.I don’t usually wear much make-up, but I love to try new things and explore. Maybe you could teach me a thing or two about cosmetics? Write back and let’s find out together!

I hit “send,” and then immediately regret it. Oh god, what have I done? Am I really pimping myself out like a streetwalker? Why did I even write what I did, anyways? I should have said something like, “I wear enough make-up for a drag queen, and will spend three hours putting it on for you to make sure you get your money’s worth!” Ugh. I’m failing from the start.

Still, desperate times call for desperate measures, and I don’t have any other options. Even worse, my stomach chooses at that moment to growl, and shaking my head, I drag myself two steps to my emergency stash of food, which at this point consists of ... nothing. I check my wallet, and there’s only a bit of loose change in the coin pouch. Not even enough to buy a single banana.

Suddenly weary and exhausted, I open my medicine bag and take a dose of St. John’s wort. I just need to go to sleep, and the herbal remedy always puts me out like a light. Then, I climb into bed and wait for slumber to claim me while lying perfectly still. Hopefully, my sugar daddy gets back to me quick ... because this sugar baby needs his help.

3

Misty

I’m at my job the next day when suddenly, I get a ping from Sweet Lies.

You have a message,Misty_18. Click to respond.

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