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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the money, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. Then, if I had the typical sense I would not have actually been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little girl in a very long time though.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyhow, since 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 thing due to the fact that he could actually charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me entering a weird automobile, a various strange car 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 additional 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd be shocked how many men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous because 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 condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, however that had disappeared when I understood I wasn't injuring anyone. The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return 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 understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me would not harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring 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 girl next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and developed and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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