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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, mainly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of sound judgment. But then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could in fact charge more, especially if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many men wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the ideas that actually flushed my bank account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics 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. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to actually like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; however never ever older. None of the men paying for me wanted a female, just a woman, and knowing that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for genuine and asked me if I 'd wed 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who liked me would not harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I might talk with him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and loved. And someplace, somehow along that trip, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go home and see my real daddy and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his wife. We 'd done whatever however consummate our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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