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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the money, mostly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of good sense. However then, if I had the sound judgment I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyway, since I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he said that was a advantage since he could really charge more, specifically if the man I was choosing selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was always scared somebody would see me getting into a odd cars and truck, a various weird car whenever, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd marvel the number of men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to in fact like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill 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 truly guilty initially, but that had actually disappeared when I understood I wasn't hurting anybody. The men loved 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 cope with them. But 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 actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring 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 woman next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.
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