u/KatelynCosmic

I need to confess this because I can't tell anyone in my life.

I'm 18, Singaporean, in my first year at a local uni. My parents earn okay but not enough for full uni fees plus living expenses. I work part-time but it's not enough. I was stressed, crying, looking at options online. Found a sugar dating site. Thought it was just dating with gifts. It's not. My first "date" was with a 45-year-old businessman. Dinner at a nice restaurant, then he asked if I wanted to "continue" at his hotel. I knew what that meant. I said yes because I needed the money.

He gave me $500 for that night. More than I earn in two weeks part-time. He was gentle, used protection, asked what I liked. It wasn't traumatic. Just... transactional. Now I have three "daddies." One sees me weekly, the others monthly. I earn enough to pay my fees, have nice things, not stress about money. My parents think I got a scholarship. My friends think I have a rich boyfriend.

The sex is fine. Sometimes good. They're experienced, patient, treat me well. But I feel like I'm performing a version of myself that's not real. Laughing at their jokes, pretending interest in their businesses, spreading my legs because the meter is running. I know I should stop. Get a normal job, struggle like everyone else. But the money is too easy. I've gotten used to not worrying about finances. I don't know who I'd be without this income.

I feel like a prostitute but I tell myself it's different because it's ongoing, because they care about me, because I'm not on the street. But isn't it the same? I'm selling my body either way.

I'm 18. I don't know what I'm doing. I just needed to tell someone the truth.

I'm 19F and I've realized I like both but for different reasons.

My bf (25) got sent to London for work, three months. We decided to keep the cuckold thing going long-distance. He bought me a ring light, a tripod, set up a dedicated Skype account. His best friend, Ryan (26), was our agreed bull while he's gone. Ryan lives five minutes away. My bf watches from his hotel room, 8 hours behind, sometimes at 3am his time, while Ryan fucks me in our bed.

The first time was weird positioning the laptop, making sure the angle was good, hearing my bf's breathing through the speakers while Ryan was inside me. But then I forgot about the camera. Just felt Ryan, heard my bf's encouragement, this weird mix of present and absent. Now it's routine. Tuesday and Friday nights. I set up, call my bf, Ryan comes over, we perform for the camera. Sometimes my bf jerks off, sometimes he just watches. Always he thanks Ryan after, tells him he's lucky, tells me I'm beautiful.

Ryan stays the night sometimes. We leave the laptop open, my bf watching us sleep, spooning, fucking again in the morning. He calls it "our time."

Three more weeks until he's home. He says he wants to watch in person again. I think I prefer this. The distance makes it safer, somehow. More like a show.

I never thought I'd be the girl who sleeps with men twice her age. I was raised to find that gross, predatory, wrong. I'm 18, he was 42. Met at a bar in Clarke Quay, he was alone, reading a book, looked sad. I was drunk, bold, sat next to him. We talked for three hours. He was divorced, lonely, gentle in a way boys my age aren't.

When he kissed me in the taxi, I didn't pull away. When he undressed me in his condo, I helped him. When he entered me, slow and careful, I cried, not from pain, from release. Like I'd been holding my breath for years and could finally exhale. He called me "beautiful" like he meant it. Like he was seeing something rare. Not "hot" or "sexy" beautiful. He touched my face during, kept eye contact, made sure I came first.

I left at 4am, took the first MRT home, watched the sun rise over HDB blocks. My mother asked why I looked tired. I said I was studying late.

I think about him when I touch myself. Not because he was the best sex he was but because he made me feel like a woman, not a girl. I want to do it again. I know I shouldn't. I know what people would say.

I don't care.