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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. Then, if I had the typical sense I wouldn't 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 ridiculous things that little women do.
I had not been a little woman in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing because he could in fact charge more, especially if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really 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 believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be shocked how numerous guys desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the tips that really flushed my bank account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics 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 since I had to in fact like these men for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, however that had actually disappeared when I realized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and cope 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 since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you know? 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 wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me actually was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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