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It turns out I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the money, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret obstruct of sound judgment. 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing since he might in fact charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way excessive 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. Choosing me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised how many guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the ideas that really flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased 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 inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to in fact like these men for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for genuine 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 since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that method. Like a person who loved me would not injure me, you understand? 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 wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter'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 father. I could speak to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and unique and enjoyed. And somewhere, somehow along that trip, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real daddy and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his spouse. We 'd done everything but skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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