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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyhow. I even began taking the money, mainly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret obstruct of sound judgment. Then, if I had the typical sense I would not 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 lady in a long time.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyway, considering that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he could really charge more, especially if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me entering a unusual cars and truck, a various odd automobile each time, and wonder what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how lots of men wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for genuine 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a man who enjoyed me would not injure me, you understand? 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 child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me truly was my papa. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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