Jul 1, 2015

Fuck the Stereotypical vs. the Stereotypical Fuck

      Have you ever thought about becoming a prostitute? I’m willing to bet the answer is no. But if I ask you if you’ve ever thought about going to a prostitute or just how it would be, here’s another bet I’m willing to make: you probably did if you’re a guy, while the female portion of my readers … My oh my, that’s no way to speak to a lady! Well, then the lady really should wake up and smell the  roses  rosy bouquet of penises at your disposal. But before I eagerly, breathlessly, passionately and very feverishly rush into the who, how, when, how much for and why women could, would, should and did buy themselves a good lay — be it at the local prostitute, gigolo, male whore or escort — let me first explain the difference between a prostitute and an escort, since one really should get acquainted with the basics before wading such hussy waters.

     The difference between a prostitute and an escort is basically nonexistent. There is, though, the difference in price, since the latter get paid more generally speaking but they basically all do the same thing, technically at least, which is suck cock, eat pussy, finger, jerk off, get fucked the hell out by their clients and/or fuck the hell out of their clients for money. That’s technically. Theoretically, in countries where prostitution is illegal, escorts do all of that for free. Because they like you. Because they felt a spark. Because it’s love at first sight. They do, on the other hand, accompany you to dinner, escort you to a wedding or a movie premiere, laugh at your jokes, shower you with compliments and enthusiastically engage in conversation they really couldn’t care less about for money — that’s what you pay an escort for, but not for sex. Theoretically. So here’s a friendly advice: if you’re in a country where prostitution is illegal and an escort uses ‘sex’ and ‘money’ in the same sentence, he or she is a cop and you should politely decline, otherwise you’ll found yourself royally fucked. But not the way you were hoping you would. And that’s the difference between prostitutes and  escorts  high class prostitutes. But although this post seemingly is about merging and joining and coming together (for realz or for fakez), this isn’t the only difference I’d like to point out, there are quite a few more so — speaking like a true prostitute — let’s get on to the next one.


     The next difference that nicely ties into the above contrast is that if this was two thousand years ago and in Rome, I wouldn’t have to explain the difference between a prostitute and an escort, because prostitution in Ancient Rome was legal, very much public, widespread and morally acceptable — at least it was acceptable for the consumer, both male or female, to enjoy some paid sex but it was frowned upon if you sold your body for pleasure so the prostitutes had to dye their hair blond or wear blond wigs thus making their occupational preference obvious. So I guess blonds truly had (and have?) been having more fun for centuries, but all their ancient contemporaries were looking down on them despite the fact that they were actually having fun with them too — talk about hypocrisy and double standards.
     And since we’re on the topic, I’m ‘seeing double’ still in our not-at-all-ancient times: Why are male escorts seen as heroes and are envied by their friends (and more or less the entire male population) while their female counterparts are perceived as victims, skanks, disease traps and God knows what else? Why, why is that? Ooh, I know — because the men who prostitute get to fuck tons of women and even get paid for it, that’s right. But so do all the lovely ladies of the night, remember? They have sex with heaps of people and are paid for it, so why the difference?
     Maybe it's a jealousy thing sparked by their male fellow hookers because even if the deed is the same, the paycheck — much like the following treatment of the eyebrow-raising society — isn’t. For comparison, a male escort can charge up to €600 (which is $660 or £420) for four hours or €6,000 (which is $6,650 or £4,250) for a week of … Well, massaging and catering and pampering and caressing and … Escorting. A successful and in-demand female escort, on the other hand, can bring in over twice the amount for a four-hour ‘dinner’ date and is able to earn a man’s weekly fee in only two days during a ‘weekend getaway’ thus leaving the male whore in the dust when it comes to income. And how do I know all of this? Google. And hours and hours of grueling research.
     But while I was nosily browsing sites like Gentlemen4Hire, MaleEscortDeluxe, Aphrodisiac male escort and Cowboys4Angels looking for various fees and whatnot, I also stumbled upon yet another difference: The advertisements aimed towards straight women differ from adds intended to attract a male (straight or gay) clientele, the former being less graphic than the latter. Meaning that men looking for some paid action will get to swim in a sea of tits and asses and vaginas and dicks while women looking for their Mr. Right Now will maybe be fortunate enough to see a southern hairline (or lack thereof) or two — and that’s it. I mean, come on, which century is this? The average female doesn’t giggle or run away at a mention or sight of a cock any more, quite the contrary. The advertisers really have to get on board because times have changed and women have just as much.


     According to a poll done in New Zealand in 2012, one out of four women would be willing to hire an escort. In Australia, 16 percent already used one and 10 percent would be willing to try. A US site offering male companions for women has 25,000 searches a month and yet another site reported a 50-percent increase in hits after the 50 Shades of Grey mania. There was even a study conducted where researchers measured female response to visual stimuli where they used a vaginal photoplethysmogram (yes, I love using big  tools  words) and the results speak in favor of female responsiveness. In simple English, they stuck a gadget thingy designed to measure moisture inside a bunch of women’s pussies, showed them porn and other stuff to see if they got wet. And boy did they get wet. Well, fuck me, I could’ve told them that without the vaginal photoplethysmogram (although I’m sure the ladies appreciated getting their vaginas filled with the gadget thingy).
     So photoplethysmogram or not, I guess women (finally) fully embraced sexual revolution with open arms (and legs) and an ever increasing number of ladies — be it single, married or divorced — employ the so called gigolos. Why? Because it’s a no-muss-no-fuss endeavor: it’s easy and safe and you know exactly what you’re getting, for how long your getting it and how much will it cost you. Much like setting up an appointment at the local spa center.


     Still, I don’t think we’re at the point where a mother will get her daughter a pair of male escorts as her graduation gift (as opposed to what some lucky bastard got from his father upon finishing law school according to some female escort’s story I read online), but if any of my married girlfriends ever got divorced, I’d totally buy them a Gentlemen4Hire gift card. That has to be better than moping around crying over some good-for-nothing — an earth-shattering orgasm and a swollen vagina have to speed the broken-heart-healing process, right? And judging by the stories of male prostitutes all across the world, this curative measure has been taken many a time already. Apparently the woman of the 21st century got tired of the hausfrau stereotype and stopped waiting for her husband to come home smelling of cigars and cheap sex, divorced him and got herself a male whore. Good for her.




     Thanks for stopping by and looking and reading (obviously) my mishmash jumble of cascading torrent of pot-pourri-like craziness, it means the world to me. Therefore, you're welcome to pop by again next week to see what's new on the blog, so hope to see you back on Wednesday since Wednesday's the designated FPS day. But beware, I'm not signing and sealing that in blood so your best bet is to follow FPS via email (or Bloglovin, Twitter, Instagram or Google+) to never miss an update. Or simply come by again sometimes!


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