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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, mainly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of good sense. Then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have actually 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 women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he could really charge more, especially if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, however 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 two. Picking me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how many guys desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little girl 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 actually been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, however that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't injuring anybody. The men loved me for a bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and deal 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 understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that method. Like a person who loved me wouldn't harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
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. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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