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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. Then, if I had the common 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 women do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he could in fact charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Method excessive for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how many men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the pointers that really flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these people for an hour or more. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; however never ever older. None of the men spending for me desired a female, just a woman, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
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 initially, however that had actually disappeared when I recognized I wasn't injuring anybody. The men liked me for a little bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of return 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 due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who loved me wouldn't injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I might speak to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and liked. And somewhere, somehow along that trip, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine papa and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his wife. We 'd done whatever however skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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