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It turns out I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. 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 ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
I just worked 3 or four nights a week anyway, because I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he could in fact charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me entering a odd car, a different strange vehicle each time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't want 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 spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many guys 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 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 spend and it was the tips that truly flushed my bank account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, just a lady, and knowing that I truly was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, but that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't injuring anybody. The men loved me for a bit, although a few of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me would not harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men 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 daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me truly was my father. I might talk with him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and loved. And somewhere, somehow along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real daddy and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his child however as his better half. We 'd done everything but practiced our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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