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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the money, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of common sense. But 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 girls do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time though.
I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, given that I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good idea since he might really charge more, especially if the guy I was choosing picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me getting into a unusual vehicle, a various weird automobile every time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months currently, and I 'd lost track of the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't need 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 was worth an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd be surprised the number of men desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the pointers that actually flushed my savings account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics 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. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these men for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, but that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although some of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of 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 since I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a guy who liked me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them wanting 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 possibly.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I might speak with him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel developed and unique and liked. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go home and see my real papa and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. But I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it. It was set into me, growing up not as his child but as his other half. We 'd done whatever however consummate our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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