Now if my son were a pimp
I'd know I'd had truly fucked up.
If he were a decent respectful man who wanted to pay to have his basic needs fulfilled rather than lie, cheat, beg and generally carry on like an ass to get a bit of action and not break trust with a woman (i.e. only hobbied while single), that's a son I could be proud of. Smart and independent of mind enough to figure out that, notwithstanding the bullshit society has to say about sex, there are ways to rocks off, for a fee (no matter what you always pay, cash is simply the most straightforward price) where both parties can walk away happy with their dignity and self respect intact.
If this isn't better than getting laid with some ugly drunk chick, drunk out of your own mind, at the end of the night at the bar, well, that's one hell of an argument to make.
I suppose I could just castrate the boy at 12, but the good lord (or lady) made us the way we are. I'm not going to teach my son to apologize for his desires. I'm going to teach him to control them and think about how to satisfy them within a reasonable set of guidelines, not the horseshit that society at large advocates.
Wet One out...