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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, mainly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of good 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how many guys desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these guys for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a lady, simply a woman, and knowing that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty initially, however that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return 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 because I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't harm 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 desired to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and envision the male who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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