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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the money, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. Then, if I had the common 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 girls do.
I had not been a little woman in a very long time though.
I just worked three or 4 nights a week anyhow, since I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me entering into a weird automobile, a different weird automobile each time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced how many men I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot 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 2. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd be surprised the number of men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases 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 real skill for it.
The males loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real 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 lonely due to the fact that I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who loved me would not harm me, you understand? 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 wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I could speak to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel special and developed and enjoyed. And somewhere, in some way along that ride, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my real dad and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. But I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his daughter however as his wife. We 'd done whatever but practiced our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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