Becoming the neighborhood slut

Hi guys! My name is Nina and I’m 28 years old. I live in Canada and have a Lebanese background. To give you a quick recap of my situation, my husband once allowed me to sleep with his friends, which ballooned into an uncontrollable addiction for me. After talking things out, we discovered how much he enjoyed having me sleep around with his friends and we eventually came to an understanding in which he would allow it to continue. However, because we failed to establish proper boundaries and ground rules, issues between us started to bubble to the surface, resulting in him expressing his desire for a separation.

This led to me falling into a tough financial situation with nowhere to go and no savings or career to fall back on. I was left without choices, and acted on a recommendation from a friend who advised me to find a “sugar daddy”. And so, I ended up getting into the sugar lifestyle, where I made an arrangement to become a sugar baby. In terms of my living arrangement, I recently had to move into an apartment in the city that I would be sharing with one of my friends. The neighbourhood and the apartment building are in a lower income area of the city and naturally, crime rates are higher here.

Fortunately, I don’t have much in terms of possessions and moving in has been a fairly easy process. There are just a few small errands I’ve had to run, but it’s become a lot easier with my friend letting me borrow her car.

When I say that I’m in a rough neighbourhood, I don’t mean that there is raging crime in the streets. But the place does have a reputation for crime and many of the people you encounter are a bit shady for lack of a better term. They dress and behave in a way where they might be perceived as dangerous in the traditional sense and not to be trifled with.

Walking around grocery stores and fast food restaurants is generally fine with little to no issues. But things really start to get strange around the apartment building. Walking into a building for a non-resident is very easy; they just follow a resident in from behind and no one can stop them. Around the lobby, stairwell, elevators, and hallways, you would always find young guys from their mid 20s to mid 30s hanging around in groups (despite the situation in the world). I know appearances can be deceiving, but these guys do look like they belong in a gang, and do seem slightly dangerous. There are two groups I always see. A group of 4-5 white guys, and another group of 4 black guys. The black guys all live on our floor and down the hall.

I asked my friend about them and she said to get used to their behaviour. They’ll always try to hit on any girl and pick them up, that they seem dangerous and she’s seen cops arrest one of them before. I experienced first-hand what she meant as I would get hit on each time I passed by them.

The first time was a bit weird. I was walking to her apartment and I saw them in the lobby. I walked past them with my suitcase making my way to my new apartment. They “cat called” me but I ignored them.

The second time it happened was when I was on my way out to get more luggage from the car. I was by myself and not wearing anything revealing. I was in yoga pants, a t-shirt and had a light jacket on – very conservative by my standards. Two of the guys tried to talk to me. They asked me what my name is. I ignored them and kept moving. Then the two followed me into the elevator. I was frightened as they stood right next to me and asked me my name again. I responded and told them. They asked me if I was new in the building and I nodded with my eyes lowered. They told me that they live near me and invited me to their apartment. I didn’t say anything. The elevator door opened and I darted out into the parking garage. They got out of the elevator with me but didn’t follow and called out, “We’ll see you later, Nina!”

I got inside my friend’s car, locked the door and sat in silence for a few moments. I felt a rush of adrenaline. I was clearly in a dangerous situation. Mind you, this was not the first time something like this has happened. Every girl gets hit on throughout her life. It is a guarantee, just like death and taxes. But in the past, I’ve always been scared and wanted it to be over. This time was different. This time…I enjoyed the attention. If this past year and a half has taught me anything it’s that I love the attention I get from men. Whether it’s men I sleep with or the guys in this building, despite their character or what type of people they may be.

In fact, unlike my sexual encounters with my husband’s friends or my sugar daddies, the difference here was simple. There was the element of surprise, the unknown, the danger, and a potential lack of safety. The danger of being wanted by men with questionable moral and legal values, not knowing what sort of stuff they were involved in. It turned me on. Yes, it turned me on like crazy.

I unconsciously found myself with my fingers on my clit, rotating slowly. My pants were damp. And at that moment I realized that I wanted to play with fire.

I had one more suitcase in my car that had my clothes. I went to the trunk and opened it, sifting through the suitcase to find something else to wear that would show me off in a better light. I pulled out a little green mini dress. It was a short sleeve dress, nice and loose and flowy. I changed in the car and kept my black thong on that I was wearing from before. I grabbed the luggage and wheeled it back towards the elevator. The two guys who had followed me into the elevator were still there. They looked at me and made a comment about my outfit change. I smiled as a knot formed in my stomach. “You need help with that bag?” one of them asked.

“Yes, please,” I said with an innocent smile. They picked up the suitcase and we waited for the elevator. This time when they chatted me up, I responded nervously to all their questions. We took the elevator up as they stood right next to me, shoulder to shoulder. We walked out of the elevator with me leading the way. I could feel them checking me out from behind, their gaze piercing every cell in my body. We approached their other friends with my luggage and I saw all of them check me out simultaneously. One of the guys introduced me to his friends. I said hello to all of them and lowered my mask below my lips so that they could see what I look like.

They invited me inside their apartment but I politely declined. Then one of them asked me for my number. I thought about it, and in a rash decision, I took his phone from his hand and put my number in it. The other guys made a fuss about this and asked for my number too. The guy I gave the number to asked if he could include me to a group chat. I said yes and that I was open to making new friends. One of the guys said that I should come along and hang out with them and bring my friend too.