In defense of a profession. "I didn't have to market my body in order to have sex—I chose to. And to dispel the assumed myth, I grew up in an affluent fully intact family on Park Avenue in New York City before moving to Paris to set up "shop." I was never molested or abused either verbally, physically, or sexually—though I know that these sorts of pasts plague many of my colleagues. No, I am writing to make a case for my profession. And I am aware that everything that can be said has been about we ladies of the night and this the "oldest profession known to man." But here is my addition to the discourse for Bastardlife. I love intimacy. I love pleasing men and women and showing off, performing if you will, all that I have learned both about my body and theirs. I find my job one of an entertainer—which, though there are no lights or cameras, and no sea of screaming fans, fills me with the kind of heightened pleasure I can't find words for. The bedroom, the bed, and their bodies are my stage, and I gladly enrich my bank account for what I do. Some people get salaries for the work they do, and some get bonuses on top of that. My "salary" is quite high, and I work hard for it. In my line of my work though, the tip I may garner is not my bonus—but the orgasm I make sure we both have is."—Juliette J. Paris, France
