Seeking arrangements dating service

Mating rituals involving the exchange of gifts—be they hunks of meat, small fishes, or diamond rings—are ingrained in many species, from apes to seabirds, to humans.It is only natural for males to target cues to fertility such as youth and beauty, and for females to be drawn to displays of resources.

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Then, matter-of-factly, he said, “Whether I met you on the site or at the Standard, you’d cost me at least 10 grand a month.”The site he was referring to was Seeking Arrangement, an online network that pairs people possessing resources (“sugar daddies” and “sugar mommies”) with those, usually much younger, seeking them (“sugar babies”).

I had become a member a few weeks earlier, partly as a social experiment and partly out of genuine desperation.

Before we sat down, Hank gave me elevator eyes and said, “Good. Even with a pre-nup, though, you’re at risk.”“Right,” I said.

I need a tall, blonde girlfriend.”When the waiter arrived, I ordered a very necessary glass of Sauvignon Blanc. I allowed Hank to feed me a piece of meat and chewed thoroughly.

The less she asks for, the more she gets.” If his expression could speak, it would have said, “Don’t expect cash, bitch.”“Sounds fair,” I said.

But Hank’s last statement felt somewhat threatening.If I had a hefty allowance from a generous benefactor, though, I figured that I could take the leap comfortably. To overcome my reservations about walking the line between dating and prostitution, I told myself that any such concerns were the result of societal conditioning.The idea of wealthy older people supporting struggling younger ones is nothing revolutionary, after all—look what Peggy Guggenheim did for Jackson Pollock or the Tuohys did for N. The idea that mixing money and mating is inherently bad, I reasoned, was a fallacy based on our collective obsession with moralizing sex.The rest of Hank’s profile, which told me that he was middle-aged, played sports, and worked in finance, was of less interest.We set up a date and specified what we’d be wearing so that we could recognize each other—a navy-blue baby-doll dress and black tights for me, a striped button-down and a maroon cashmere vest for him.When he invited me back to his apartment, I felt torn.

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