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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the money, primarily since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of sound judgment. However then, if I had the sound judgment 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 ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing because he might in fact charge more, especially if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of guys I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way excessive 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 was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd marvel how many guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to actually like these men for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a female, just a woman, and understanding that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill 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 enjoyed 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 since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that method. Like a person who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them wanting 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 woman next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me really was my papa. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it.
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