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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the money, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret 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 simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a very long time though.
I just worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, considering that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he might really charge more, specifically 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 actually like it. I was always scared someone would see me getting into a strange cars and truck, a various unusual vehicle whenever, and wonder what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be stunned how lots of people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these guys for an hour or more. I needed to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; however never ever older. None of the men spending for me desired a woman, just a girl, and knowing that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 lonely due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me would not harm me, you understand? 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 daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and imagine the male who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it.
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