Would you marry a prostitute?
Most men would think you are a fool if you did
I married a whore, but not on the day we wed. After that, Nancy became a prostitute, and I didn’t walk away from our marriage because of it. I consciously decided to stay married to a woman who sold her body to hundreds and hundreds of men.
It wasn’t what I expected from Nancy, but she did it, and she enjoyed it and has talked about doing it again. She is not driven by money. She doesn’t need to lift a finger. I have provided Nancy with everything she needs and more. If she ever needs money, all she has to do is go to an ATM and use the card I have given her to take out cash.
She can buy anything she wishes.
Her days working as an escort were some of the happiest in her life, and she may want to revisit that experience. I will support her if she does, and I will stay faithful to her.
I realize not many men would feel as I do, but Nancy did not fundamentally change as a person when she started having sex for money. She genuinely liked the men she serviced and liked the erotic charge she got out of being so wanted. She had real sex with her clients, and they brought her to orgasm before she reciprocated.
The truth is that prostitution didn’t fundamentally alter Nancy in any way. She was still the same woman I fell in love with. That’s why I wouldn’t object if she chose to do it again. You may think that is terribly modern of me, and I’ve reached some sort of plane where non-monogamy is not an issue.
I’m not terribly modern, and I understand that most men would think I am a fool on a scale of magnitude that is incomprehensible to them. After all, for every year she works as a prostitute, it’s another thousand men who will have fucked her.
Most men would throw their wives out for one act of adultery. Nancy has had numerous affairs throughout our marriage. In a sense, what is the difference that she is having sex for money instead of out of lust?
I am embarrassed that Nancy was a prostitute, and I would be more humiliated if she chose to do it again. I was either programmed to feel that way or it’s inherent in human nature to think that.
After all, there is a biological reason men pay money for sex, and women don’t.
Being a prostitute is not a lifelong mission for most women. Most do it out of necessity. A few aren’t that way and, like Nancy, do it because they enjoy it. That, in itself, is what brings further shame to me because it makes her choice a further mark of my inadequacy in the eyes of my fellow men.
I couldn’t walk down the street with Nancy and pass her clients with whom she had sex with just hours or days before. I am not into being laughed at behind my back.
I am not that woke.
If Nancy chooses again to work as a call girl, I will keep that secret hidden. She can go off to Bordeaux again and work for the same escort agency. They’ll keep her safe while she makes them another fortune. When she comes back to me, she’ll be the same woman she was before. I’m not going to tell anyone what she will really be doing.
It’s not something that makes me proud, but it doesn’t make me stop loving her.
