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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, mainly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret obstruct of common sense. However then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he could really charge more, especially if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd be stunned how many people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the ideas that really flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men spending for me desired a female, simply a woman, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The males loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least come back to their cities and live with them. 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 since I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you know? 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 daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me truly was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and liked. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go home and see my genuine father and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. But I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child however as his spouse. We 'd done everything however consummate our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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