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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of good sense. 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 homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a very long time though.
I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, since I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he said that was a advantage because he could really charge more, especially if the person I was choosing chosen me up at school. That advantage ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me entering into a strange car, a different weird car whenever, and wonder what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be stunned how lots of guys wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage slut to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated 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 condoms and lube and junk like that. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to actually like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me wanted a lady, simply a woman, and knowing that I truly was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, but that had disappeared when I recognized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men loved me for a bit, although a few of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and deal with them. However 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 understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't harm 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 desired to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me really was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and developed and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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