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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of good sense. However then, if I had the sound judgment 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 had not been a little woman in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he might really charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of guys I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised the number of people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the ideas that truly flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transportation 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. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 lonely because I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a man who liked me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people 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 girl next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could speak to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and liked. And someplace, somehow along that flight, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real papa and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. However I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it. It was configured into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his wife. 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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