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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of good sense. However then, if I had the good sense 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 had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing because he might in fact charge more, especially if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash 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 2. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be surprised how many people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 lonesome due to the fact that I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me would not injure me, you understand? 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 wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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