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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyway. I even started taking the money, primarily since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of sound judgment. However then, if I had the good sense I would not have actually been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long period of time though.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyhow, considering that I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he might really charge more, especially if the guy I was opting for chosen me up at school. That benefit ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly afraid someone would see me getting into a strange car, a different unusual vehicle each time, 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 extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be shocked how lots of people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the tips that actually 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 man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes 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. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to actually like these guys for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a female, just a woman, and understanding that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for genuine and asked me if I 'd wed 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 because I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who liked me would not harm me, you understand? 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 daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me really was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and special and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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