Rub and tug and bug
I've run out of arguments to convince my boyfriend to accompany me for an erotic massage.
I went out of my way last year to search out a nice salon where girls without fake boobs seem to have fun working together and feel like friends. I found a gem. It isn't at all easy to find a girl willing to give another girl an erotic massage. I liked the experience so much that I've asked my boyfriend to join me next time.
Although he seems very excited by the thought of it, he's still reluctant. He fears STIs and is unconvinced that the girl I met last time didn't seem to hate her job. He kinda feels like he is betraying his principles and the feminine gender. I think he also fears that I won't like seeing him being touched by another girl, although the thought excites me and I've made this clear to him. I wanna go back with him this time. How to persuade him?
Let's just be rational for two minutes, A, honestly, just two. Then we can all go back to being completely flipped out about the fact that after the June 26th weekend, Toronto may have been burnt to the ground, most of its citizens either in makeshift prisons or poking through the rubble of their condos looking for their yoga mats and French bulldogs.
Nearly everyone you come across in the service industry is either ambivalent about or categorically despises their work. Why do you think large restaurant chains have hospitality training courses and very specific policies around language and behaviour? Because they know damn well that if their personnel could chuck soy grande latttes at people's heads all day long, that's exactly what they'd do. Do you think service industry people enjoy using dorky company-speak? Offering you a cherry pie with that? Wearing a uniform that would strip Opie Winston of his sex appeal?
Simply put, if your boyfriend doesn't wish to use the services of disgruntled workers, he'd have to stay home and never buy anything from anyone.
To insist that sex workers like their jobs at all times is to hold them to a standard we don't apply to any other worker, and believe me, most sex workers have fewer reasons to hate their work than a lot of service providers.
We put sex workers between a rock and a hard place: we're mistrustful when they do like their work, yet we insist they must like their work if we're to use their services "ethically."
What will it take for people to make up their minds? A fair trade stamp on their butts? An artful community bulletin board above the condom bowl featuring pictures of smiling, contented workers giving hand jobs in straw hats and ponchos?
Having said that, I do understand why, in the context of a remunerated intimate exchange, we prefer an attendant who's genuinely enthusiastic, even though we don't necessarily hold our recreational lovers to this standard. But a person would have to find sex disgusting to begin with to dislike this work simply as a matter of course. Many sex workers don't find sex disgusting or, at the very least, are working against all odds to see pleasure as a positive thing and themselves as pleasure professionals.
If your boyfriend is determined not to believe this or to bring his frankly chauvinistic and dated attitudes toward women's sexuality to this exchange, I don't think he's ready to see a sex worker. Ask whores what, besides bad breath and stinginess, is the worst part of their job, and they'll tell you: clients who heaps patronizing concern on them.