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Talia , 39 y
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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of common sense. Then, if I had the typical sense I would not have 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 ladies do. I hadn't been a little woman in a long period of time though. I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, considering that I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me entering a unusual automobile, a different odd automobile every time, and question what was going on.

I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of guys I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, 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 extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how many men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the suggestions that actually flushed my bank account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation 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 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 in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, just a lady, and understanding that I actually was simply 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 anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.

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 gone away when I recognized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of return to their cities and live with them. But 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 truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly.

I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my papa. I could speak to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and liked. And somewhere, somehow along that trip, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine father and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. However I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his daughter however as his wife. We 'd done everything however skilled our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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