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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, mainly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret obstruct of common sense. However then, if I had the good sense I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
I just worked three or 4 nights a week anyway, considering that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good idea since he could really charge more, especially if the guy I was opting for selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly afraid someone would see me entering into a strange car, a different unusual automobile every time, and question what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how many men wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, however that had gone away when I realized I wasn't injuring anybody. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although a few of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and live with them. However they were in love with who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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