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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, mainly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret obstruct of good sense. But then, if I had the sound judgment I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he might really charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but 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 two. Selecting me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd marvel how many people desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the suggestions that actually flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to actually like these men for an hour or more. I needed to act more youthful often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me wanted a female, just a girl, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for genuine and asked me if I 'd wed 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 because I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who loved me would not hurt 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 wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me truly was my papa. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and unique and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it.
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