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It ends up 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 regret obstruct of common sense. Then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been simply 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 girl in a long time.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyway, because I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good idea because he could really charge more, especially if the guy I was opting for picked me up at school. That privilege ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly afraid someone would see me entering into a strange cars and truck, a various strange vehicle each time, and wonder what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how lots of people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the ideas that truly flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap 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 because I had to actually like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty in the beginning, but that had actually disappeared when I understood I wasn't injuring anybody. The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and live with them. But they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who loved me would not injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me truly was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and developed and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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