Do Flat Tummies Matter?

As I’m getting my son out of the car and rushing him to the school gate, I’m already wondering what sort of man he’s going to become. I work with men most days. I work with them at their best, when they are happiest and most fulfilled and, at their worst, when they are angry and frustrated. I work with them at their most vulnerable, when they are scared and confused and at their strongest, when they feel that they are not alone. I’ve long been fascinated by the complex creatures that are men and that’s one of the main reasons I’m working on my psychology masters. I hope I learn enough to help my son grow into the best man he can be because, God only knows, he’ll need all the help he can get.

Things are changing for us all and many men aren’t well prepared. That’s why I think my work is so very important. Men aren’t just ‘the patriarchy’ or the plumber, or the guy who tried to upskirt you. Men are simply other people with a shitload of testosterone inside that wants to make them fuck and fight all the time, sometimes simultaneously. I believe that they need constructive outlets for both of those drives to allow them to focus on how to navigate life effectively, without ending up in prison or dead. Only mothers raising boys, like I am, are somewhat responsible for that outcome. Otherwise, once they are grown up, they better learn the tools they need in life to get by.

This is the problem though, not all men find those constructive outlets and that just makes them even more angry and frustrated and then they just want to fight even more. So, I feel that in my job, right now, I am doing my best to make the world a better place by helping men to have a safe and constructive outlet for some of their needs. And, I definitely do my best. My friends think it’s weird that I take my job so seriously. Most people hear the word ‘escort’ and they just think we’re a bunch of silly little women who do it because we’re desperate or dumb and can’t find any other way to make a living. Sorry/not sorry to disappoint them.

I’m a strong, smart, educated woman. Yes, I’m a single mum, but I’m that way by choice. I have a job that gives me the freedom to be the sort of mum I think my boy deserves and a rapidly growing savings account. By the time I’m 40, I’ll own my house outright and have enough money in the bank so that I’ll be able to have a career that I love, rather than one that just pays the bills.

I have friends who are actually working as accountants and engineers even though they have absolutely no interest in either subject and quite hate their jobs. They just see them as ‘good earners’. Well, life is too bloody short for that. I’m earning more money than they will, get to travel, eat out at amazing restaurants, meet some quite interesting people and can take as many sick or holiday days that I want. I also get lots of sex. I am of the mind that there is no such thing as ‘bad’ sex. There’s sex that’s not as exciting as other times, but if you love your body, love sex and always participate with enthusiasm, it’s going to end up being a laugh, if nothing else.

My guess is that I actually meet more ‘decent’ men on my job than they do in their 9-5 office jobs. I’ve heard their stories. Their creepy bosses, the quick drunken sex in the loos, the dramas at the office parties when someone gets caught shagging someone else. They certainly seem to have some bad sex. And, here I am, rubbing exotic smelling, expensive lotion into my, if I may say so myself, beautiful skin, allowing myself the time to prepare fully for an afternoon date. One of the other indulgences of doing my job is that I have the time to look after myself. I go to the gym, hang out with the uptight ladies at the yoga class, who all believe that making their tummy flatter will keep their husbands faithful, have spa days ever couple of weeks and generally live the life of a spoiled wife without having to be one.

I will normally take up to two dates a day when I’m working. I’ve taken more and often I end up with less because of regulars who like to book me for more hours. If I’m feeling particularly energetic and my dates are not too physically demanding, I’ve managed four in a day. Crazy huh? Well, I’m a believer in giving a date what he’s come for. Some of them want attention, cuddles, teasing, flirting and intimacy, while others just want quick, skillful relief with nothing fancy and no extras. I’m happy to do both. The thing I really love more about dealing with men in my job more than dating guys or being in relationships, is that I can be absolutely clear about what I’m willing to do and what my boundaries are without having to deal with a guilt trip. I’m completely upfront and, because I work for Cleopatra Escorts, my skills, talents and services are right there where everyone can see them. So, I’m unlikely to ever meet a man who is disappointed. Quite the opposite. They know what they want, they chose me, specifically for that reason, and they are very happy to see me. How many people work for folks who are always happy to see them?

My date this afternoon is a lovely bloke, probably married to one of those yoga mums. I’ve never asked, but he wears a ring. He books me once a week for a quick bit of fun. It’s not her flat tummy keeping him from having an affair, it’s me. I give him what she can’t or won’t. I would never ask her to be grateful, because I don’t believe she should be. But maybe, if she knew, she wouldn’t have to spend so much time planking. Their lives are so complicated and mine remains simple. When the date is over, I’ll go pick up my son from school, hang out with him help him with his homework, put him to bed, do my own studies and then, when the babysitter arrives, I’ll head out to another date. This one is at a fancy hotel, so I didn’t bother to have lunch – I know room service will be fantastic, it always is. It’s not me who is worried about having a flat tummy.