I wasn't in the mood to go out that night, but I knew that if I was going to sell my body to pay for the surgery, the first thing I needed was to get out of a small, rather inopportune detail that would keep me from giving myself to this man who was offering to be my Sugar Daddy. I had to once and for all put an end to my virginity.

I needed to stop being the young amazon that all these 26 years of life sublimated sexual energy that I used to overflow with my hip movements and used to focus towards mental creation and physical exercise, a physical exercise that did not include getting intimate with other men.

The truth is that I have the word "warrior" tattooed under my right breast, and although I have never been naked in front of any man, my skin is white, soft and I take care of it and keep it hydrated. When I got the tattoo the tattoo artist said he loved my skin, that it was one of the most beautiful he had ever seen. I decided that "warrior" would be the right word because I would become the woman I had always wanted to be, a sensual woman who would show off the tattoo under her breasts in a sweeping, bewitching way, I wanted to be a sexy bombshell, and I would achieve it. But for that I needed to feel completely comfortable with my body, so I definitely wanted to get a breast augmentation.

Probably my celibate energy was what made me stand out in any intellectual activity or where I had to give free rein to my artistic creativity. That is why archaeology, and especially the restoration of antique pieces and art, seems so exciting to me. Since I was a child I have always had a great tendency to efficiency, utility and perfectionism, so even artistic creations usually pursue useful purposes, in my case they are my work and part of my life.

My intuition and creativity were fed by my sexual energy, contained within my body, and I translated it into an intrinsic instinct of procreation. For me life is completely focused on giving me an artistic and intellectual sense, any mental, technical, intellectual, philosophical and artistic work I do is marked by a strong inclination to perfectionism. To be perfect even with the way I consecrate myself from a sensual and attractive image for the opposite sex was my goal, that's why I needed to accept the offer of my future Sugar Daddy. Truth be told I found it repulsive, and never for a moment did I think I could give my virginity to a man twice my age, overweight and looking at me like I was a piece of meat or a huge, fresh clitoris. But my Sugar Daddy had a lot of money, and he was crazy about me, so that was all I needed.

I made it clear that I would only have sex with him and would agree to be his girlfriend, as he had been asking me for weeks if he would pay for my breast surgery, and he agreed. However that night he wanted a quickie and I still had my virginity situation on my hands to resolve. Overall I could say that nature was very kind to me, my hips are thick and seductive, my waist is that of an abyss, I am tall and my legs are slender. I train 4 times a week at the gym and I also take yoga classes after working at the museum where I restore antique pieces, so I consider myself quite sexy and men always let me know it. But to lose my virginity I didn't know any man in my life that would really make me feel full of ardor and desire or make my heart beat on the brink of passion. There was Eleazar, so my story begins the night I decided I would fuck Eleazar to lose my virginity and thereby sell my body to the Sugar Daddy for breast augmentation surgery. The Sugar Daddy, more than morbid thoughts inspired in me a little repulsion, however I was willing to accept it.

That night I came home from the gym and took a hot shower, rinsed my long hair with a purple shampoo and an avocado and vanilla cream that left my hair as soft as silk and kept it shiny as the sun, long and strong. I combed my hair and put cream on my legs to get ready to read the volume of Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights that I have on my bed. My phone vibrates. It's Sugar Daddy calling me.

- Hello love," I say in the sweetest, most fake tone of voice I can muster.

- Barbie, where are you. I need to see you.

- Tonight?

- Yes, come to my apartment. Ring the intercom when you are downstairs, floor 4-3 tower A.

- Are you alone?

- I am with my daughter.

- There is no way to visit you with your daughter at home. Another night.

- Then go down to the parking lot, meet me in five minutes and we'll go to a hotel.

- Tonight I don't feel like going to a hotel, I'd rather see you at home - I tell him.

- Then let's go for a ride in the car and get something to eat.

- Agreed.

I hang up the call and sigh. I know I'm sure of what I'm doing but I can't help but feel sad. I wish I wasn't at least a virgin. I put on a short navy blue dress and blow dry my hair until the curls of my hair rise up to my waist forming big waves that end in sort of shiny, golden tubes at the end of my mane. I line my eyes with feline makeup and paint my lips pastel pink, my naturally long eyelashes look as abundant as a forest full of trees after I curl them.

I leave my apartment and walk across the parking lot to the white, late model lamborghini parked in front of the A tower. The sugar is already there, I walk towards him and he greets me with a kiss on the cheek, looks at me with sparkling eyes and restrains himself from kissing me or touching my face because we are in public and the neighbors are always looking out of their windows from their luxurious apartments.

- How are you my love? - He asks me in a whisper and lightly strokes my chin.

- Great, good to see you - I answer smiling.

- Let's go. I'm dying to be alone with you," he says.

He walks to the car and opens the passenger door for me. The next minute he gets into the car. I am not religious, nor do I usually say any special prayer to protect myself, but sometimes when I am going to be at a meeting that I am not very enthusiastic about attending, or I have a very important job to attend to, I usually make the sign of the cross that my mother taught me. I remember it vividly, from the first time she taught me to make the sign of the cross. I was nine years old, and that day we were on vacation in Caracas, Venezuela. Before going out to the street, my mom stopped right at the door of the building and crossed me. She took my hair, which by then was a darker blonde, behind my shoulders and taught me to cross myself, while whispering softly: "May God protect me with his power, the son with his wisdom, and the holy spirit with his light and love".

The Sugar Daddy opens the car door for me and the next second I chase myself three times repeating the prayer as he gets into the seat in front of the steering wheel. Then in the privacy of the car he places his hand, brown and rough, on my leg, toned, white and freshly dipped in vanilla cream and plum splash.

- How are you, love? Now if I can greet you well - He leans towards me and I greet him back sweetly, then his lips press towards mine, and I have to hold back so as not to reject him.

- Where will you take me - I tell him with mock enthusiasm.

- Let's go for a walk and talk.

He affirms and we leave the residential complex where we both live. I tell myself that I am capable of handling the situation and that I am doing it to show off the sculpted body I wish I had. Then Sugar starts telling me about the new house, which he is building with an architect especially for me to have a small museum where I can paint and restore works with the daylight coming in through the windows, and the sound of the mountain streams as part of nature.

- In a month the house will be ready and you will be able to move in with me - he assures.

- But I don't want to move to your place, I'm happy in mine. My apartment is spacious, beautiful and I can paint and work without inconvenience.

- But I want you to move in with me, and make rich love every night, and every morning - He tells me.

- Have you lived with a man before me?

- No - I say, and it's true.

- We'll make love so good every night that you won't want to leave our house.

- You can visit me at my apartment.

- Barbie can't come to see you very often because my children's mother will keep this house. That's why it's more comfortable for us to be in the mountains, you understand - She tells me and releases one of the hands she has on the steering wheel to touch my leg again. My heart goes to my feet and then I take his hand and squeeze it hard.

- Well, that's perfect - I tell him sweetly. The sugar lets go of my hand and continues driving.

It is evident that sugar has a great need for affection, I can see the bottles of whiskey in the glove compartment of the car when I open it to look for the hand mirror that I usually leave there, when sugar looks for me in the mornings at my house and takes me to the art and science museum where I work. But then in addition to the mirror I see that he now has a bottle, and also in the back seat the sound of the glass resonates like two glass bottles crashing into each other. "He's been drinking" I think, and I don't feel comfortable seeing him in front of the steering wheel. The speed limit is acceptable but he is anxious and effusive as he converses with me.

- Next Monday is the doctor's appointment to pay the clinic and set the date for my surgery - I tell him.

- Are you sure it's the amount you told me? I was thinking love, if we look for a doctor who charges cheaper.

- I have an ex-girlfriend I operated on, Dany, I had her breasts done and she had lipo, and the doctor didn't charge so much - The sugar tells me, it seems that when he speaks he pouts because his pink and wet lips shine in extreme, but far from seeming attractive to me I find it unpleasant.

- He is the best doctor in town - I say firmly. "Oh no, he's going to get stingy, if he gets stingy this is not going to work. I'm just going to be in the hands of the best doctor.".

- If you're going to get stingy please let's talk about it, because I'm going to be upset.

- But why are you going to bother, my beautiful Barbie? You're going to look beautiful, a thousand times more beautiful than you already are.

- I know love, but it has to be with my doctor, I trust him.

- But I want to be with you first, to taste you, to feel you - He says and his hand goes up from my knee to my thigh, I feel a twist in my stomach and again I press his hand to prevent him from touching me anymore.

- I know love - I whisper tenderly - But tonight we can't - I add sweetly. It seems that my soft tone of voice and my smiles full of brilliance are enough for him because his eyes shine and his look calms down every time I speak to him persuasively. I understand that Sugar is in great need of love, that his wife is leaving him, his daughters look at him as a bank account with many zeros, and that I, as well as probably his other ex-girlfriends are just using him for his money for personal gain.

Human beings can be so selfish that aware of the whole situation there is no double standard in my mind, if I am going to be with Sugar at least I want to give him sincere affection and that the attention I give him is really destined to him because I am interested in him. But the truth is that I don't find him attractive at all, so at least I try to force myself to be interested in him as a person. The sugar continues driving towards an Arabian restaurant and crosses the main avenue turning towards Las Tapias residences, one of the most chic and elegant places in the city. If you live in Las Tapias or live in the area where Sugar and I live, you are socially well off, the Museum of Art and Science where I work is located in Las Tapias, and I love it because it is always attended by refined people, very cultured art critics and students or art and science enthusiasts who maintain a seductive halo when they stare at the pieces. In general I like the good via, my apartment is luxurious and completely paid for by me. Because I not only seduce rich men, I am also a magnet for expensive jobs and remodeling of expensive sculptures that make me a lot of money and keep my finances in order.

- Where are we going? - I ask.

- I want to be alone with you, let's go to the parking lot of the Museum - He tells me. I can see how his eyes, small, look more slanted than usual because of the alcohol and I understand that El Sugar wants to fuck tonight. And I must get out of that situation without him noticing my rejection in a direct way.

- Love, but first we must look for condoms.

-Do you have any condoms? - I ask and smile at him with a twinkle in my eye.

- No my precious, let's go get condoms - He tells me and turns down a blind street at the end of the museum. I sigh in relief. I must call Eleazar soon, a crush who is dying for me and a nice guy, to fuck him soon and give him my virginity. Then I can be with El Sugar.

Sugar doesn't go out on the main avenue towards the nearest shopping mall or service pump, but instead starts to climb up a hillside of trees that are in a park in front of some very luxurious houses in Las Tapias. Just then it starts to rain and raindrops fall against the windshield, Sugar doesn't seem to mind the rain, and my intuition lets me know that he is determined to try to fuck me that night. "Damn, I shouldn't have gone out with him in that state, and besides I have a dress on, I look a thousand times more provocative and accessible to him" I start to worry. But then I remember the strong energy that has always characterized me to get everything I want, and the tenacious and shrewd way I have always achieved my goals on my own merit, without hurting anyone. "I must find a way to get a boob job without having to go through this torture" I think to myself. Then I look at Sugar with compassion, and some distrust. He can't hurt me, as we have been seen leaving the parking lot of our residences together. Everyone knows I live there, and if anything happens to me at once they would know it was because of him. Nevertheless I feel the need to get out of the car.

Sugar continues to drive through the park and pulls over, keeping the lights flashing as the rain lashes against the glass and the air conditioner begins to pinch my skin because of my tiny dress.

- Love, let's go somewhere else. I'm cold - I whisper.

He takes off his seat belt and leans toward me.

- My love let me warm you up - He asks me. At that moment I feel his kisses on me and he takes my hand and brings it towards his member, I can feel it through the blue jeans pants he wears, besides his fat and flabby belly that comes into view under his white shirt.

I'm sure I won't fuck Sugar, I thought I would be able to but I can't be with a man I don't find sexually attractive; but I also know that maybe the only reason he hasn't overdone things is because he has the future hope of a promise that I will be his. I can't let him know that I changed my mind until I am in the comfort and safety of my home. So El Suugar continues to kiss me but I respond to his kisses tenderly, sweetly, compassionately, it is the only way I can kiss him. I reject any feeling of repulsion in me and try to kiss him tenderly. He unbuttons his pants and I can feel his member, it is really small, and I am surprised that a powerful man, with so much money and such luxurious cars has a small penis.

- Give me oral sex - He asks me.

- I don't like to do it - I tell him sweetly between kisses. Although the truth is that I have never done it and I have not bothered to learn how to give it, but El Sugar does not know that I am a virgin so I prefer to bet on making him believe that I am playing hard to get. At that moment he starts kissing me wildly and I have to summon all my strength and the conviction of my personality to remind myself that I am a strong woman, a warrior. I push him away.

- I don't want you to take me in your car. I think it's in very bad taste - I say coldly and pretend I'm offended. He tries to kiss me again but I reject him.

- Barbie, come my love, I want to hug you - He asks me, and at that moment his hands run along my hips as he tries to kiss me again. But I take his hands firmly and ask him not to touch me.

- Take me home - I say coldly.

- It bothers me when you treat me like this - I add.

Although the truth is that if it were a man I really wanted to be with I would ask him right then and there to make love to me, but El Sugar is just a 55 year old man, drunk, depressed and with money. And of those three things the only one I'm interested in is none, just being in the arms of a man I really want, or failing that lying in my house wrapped in blankets drinking hot chocolate and reading Wuthering Heights. But El Sugar knows nothing about Emili Bronte, and probably nothing about archeology, mummies or ancient Greek deities that I am so passionate about in my work. All El Sugar knows is that I am beautiful, I have a young and beautiful vagina, fresh and quite innocent, more than he imagines, and that's all he cares about. Something I can't give him.

Then he kisses me once more and a name comes to my mind, as if I could levitate in my thoughts, I feel a name embracing my head. "Atenea, Atenea" whispers a voice in my subconscious a voice full of serenity, calm and firmness, that seems to come with the sound of the icy rain that falls now against the asphalt of Las Tapias. "Athena" I repeat to myself, and remember that she is the Goddess daughter of Zeuz who remained a virgin throughout her life. "Athena protect me" I say as I feel El Sugar's lips, slimy and wet against my soft and tender kisses, as I search within myself for more romantic gestures of affection to give her, and for her to finally take me home.

"Athena, protect me" I say in a whisper with my eyes wide open and my gaze glued to the darkness of the trees that border the residences of Las Tapias.

- Give me oral sex - He asks me and grabs my head pressing my neck towards his crotch.

- I don't want to! - I say in exasperation. Then, as if moved by some kind of invisible inertia, I open the car door. And El Sugar pulls away from me. I get out of the car without saying a word. And at that moment I close the door and walk away from him, in my 10cm boots and my sky blue mini dress, aware that if he gets out of the car I will have no chance of escaping in my heels.

- Barbie, get in the car, don't be ridiculous," he says.

- No, leave me alone - I say coldly.

- Honey, don't get mad. Get in the car - He asks staring at me, but I can still feel his alcohol breath and his slobbery lips and the sad little touch of his penis.

- Go away, I'm not getting in the car - I tell him firmly, without any doubt of what I say and he can understand it. For I have the gift of being brutally frank as well as I have the gift of sweetly pretending to please others.

My eyes meet his, and I no longer feel fear or distaste at his kisses or his sexual harassment. Now I feel a great rage that he remains there, asking me to get into his car, and he understands. I just want him to disappear from my sight. His money tried to make me feel inferior but now I understand, I don't need it, I can make all the money I want on my own, and I will, without denigrating my feminine energy.

- Go. I go to the museum and call a cab - I say finally walking down the street.

- Get in the car," he says, driving past me.

- Get out, I'm not getting into your car," I tell him in exasperation. He closes the window of the lamborghini and disappears from my sight accelerating with a deafening noise. I walk a couple more blocks, feeling shocked. And at that moment the sound of the horn of a gandola resounds loudly, probably a driver driving at full speed. As I turn onto the adjacent street and turn towards the Science Museum, I look towards the main avenue where there is a pharmacy and a bakery on the other side of the avenue, both with their lights on and the letters "24 hours" glowing between the bulbs that make up the pharmacy's sign.

Then a now overturned truck stretches between both lanes of the avenue, and a white late model car, completely overturned and smashed against a poster, grab the attention of some people while the scene seems to me distant and imperceptible, as if I was watching it all from a white blanket, and for some strange reason I could be inside that car, now lifeless, just as I am now in the rain, feeling the caress of the water on my cheeks.