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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of good sense. Then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he might in fact charge more, particularly if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd be shocked how lots of people desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing 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 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 really like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
The guys loved 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't injure 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 different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it.
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