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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, primarily since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret obstruct of sound judgment. But then, if I had the good sense I would not 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 silly things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing since he could actually charge more, especially if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of guys I 'd made love with. I didn't would like to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way too much 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. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised how many men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to in fact like these people for an hour or two. I needed to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, just a woman, and knowing 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 talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 lonesome because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various 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 father. I might talk with him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and liked. And someplace, somehow along that trip, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my real dad and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. However I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child however as his other half. We 'd done everything however skilled our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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