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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the money, mainly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. But then, if I had the common 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 silly things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
I only worked 3 or four nights a week anyway, considering that I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good idea since he could really charge more, specifically if the man I was choosing chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me getting into a weird automobile, a various strange vehicle whenever, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way 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 2. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd marvel how many people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to actually like these guys for an hour or 2. 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 genuine talent for it.
The males liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them wanting 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 lady next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I might talk with him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and enjoyed. And someplace, in some way along that flight, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine dad and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his child but as his better half. We 'd done whatever however skilled our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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