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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, mainly due to the fact that 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 sound judgment I would not have 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 ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he could actually charge more, particularly if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Method 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. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd marvel how many people wanted 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 mainly. They had a great deal of cash to spend and it was the tips that really flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need 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 considering that I had to actually like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, however that had gone away when I realized I wasn't harming anyone. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and cope with them. But 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 lonely because I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most 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 woman next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my father. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and liked. And somewhere, somehow along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my genuine dad and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. However I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child but as his spouse. We 'd done everything but consummate our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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