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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of good sense. Then, if I had the typical sense I would not have been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do.
I had not been a little woman in a long period of time though.
I only worked 3 or four nights a week anyway, given that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good idea since he might in fact charge more, especially if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me getting into a strange cars and truck, a different strange automobile every time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced how many guys I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot 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 additional 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd be surprised how many guys desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics 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 sometimes too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
The males loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd marry 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 since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who liked me wouldn't hurt 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 child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could speak to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that trip, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go home 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 developed love, and I could not assist it. It was set into me, maturing not as his child but as his better half. We 'd done whatever however practiced our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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