We’re all clear that the Holy Grail of a relationship is marriage. Yet not all relationships get to that point. And not all women interested parties want to be married. We could debate for days about being married, wanting to be married and the benefits of being married, but not all of us are so singularly focused.  Today I’d like to promote the benefits of a woman being the long-term lover of a wealthy man.

Yep, you read correctly. If you would kindly lower your eyebrows I can explain.  I just want to be clear that I’m talking about a modern-day courtesan relationship; as in a kept woman; as in a beck-and-call girl. The euphemism of mistress has been tossed around for centuries, and unlike our current understanding of adultery or prostitution, this profession is alive and well. It serves its purpose of companionship and other services to the upper echelons of society. If you’ll allow me, I’d like to paint a picture of my ideal relationship.

I have no hesitation in saying that if I’m not married or working toward marriage, I want to be with a man who has money. I’m not talking Tiger Woods’ or Senator Edwards’s rich. I’m more inclined toward the type of wealth that creates monopolies of trusts, investments, and capital that can only be described in proper noun format (think the Kennedy’s, the Rockefeller’s). I am of the opinion that women spend a lot of time with no-good men on a quest to find love, that they forget how much power their *cough* box holds.

Sex is a business that sells so if you’re already giving your charming companionship away for free, I feel sorry for you. Yes, women are allowed to choose when, where, and how they sleep with a man, but if you could sleep with someone regularly and all your bills were paid… I don’t know about you, but my scale tips heavily in favor of the latter option.

His basic requirements are clear: generationally wealthy, not rags to dot-com boom rich. The courtesan also comes with a list of criteria: pretty, witty, freaky, discreet… the list can go on and on. The fundamentals of this arrangement are that it’s a mutually agreed upon contract with clear metrics of success. In return for meeting the service level agreements binding the temporal interval, I’m rewarded with a blueprint of treasures that meet my superficial desires. Sounds mercenary, doesn’t it? But I’m serious *laughs gleefully*.

I can find no fault in having my housing paid for, having a closet full of unpronounceable designer labels, and an armoire of baubles that glisten in the light. In return, I’m required to be there physically, but turned off emotionally. *Fist pump*I can completely do this when all I see is dollar signs.

Do you know what I would do with mounds of disposable income? First, I would get the Nicki Minaj surgery; transitioning most of my spare tire to my rear end. Then I would get a personal trainer to come to the house to keep my body in optimal condition. I would schmooze with all of his money-bucket cronies so that when he tired of me, I would have another bed to land in. On my “off-days” I’d take his private jet to his vacation home, where I would sunbathe and read. Sooner or later I’d grow weary of the lap of luxury and actually volunteer… but until then I would live it up. *Sigh* the good life.

It may be all fantasy and a little (or a lot) far-fetched, but don’t you ever think of your ideal relationship?  For me it’s the notion that you’re not really tied to a person, and yet you’ve both come to a mutually beneficial agreement for an extended period of time where in the end you’re both sated before severing the connection… but what about you?

Readers: If you could have an ideal relationship, what would it look like? Do you think being the “mistress” of a wealthy man is a realistic endeavor? I’ve geared myself for some type of “well men can do it, but women can’t” in the comments…

*taps the mic* the floor is yours.

Just Lissen

F. Scott Fitzgerald quipped ‘You dont write because you want to say something, you write because you have something to say.’

Whether on this site or on her personal blog ‘The Soundtrack of My Life’, there are never enough words to capture her essence. Her aim is to exhaust all of the words in the English language, and then invent new ones because writing is her passion. Sometimes funny, sometimes reflective, always honest; it’s a fresh take on common issues.

 

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