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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, mainly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long period of time though.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyhow, considering that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he could really charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me getting into a weird cars and truck, a various strange automobile whenever, and wonder what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be stunned how many people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more often 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 agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. However that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, simply a girl, and knowing that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a man who liked me would not injure 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 different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me truly was my dad. I might talk with him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and enjoyed. And somewhere, somehow along that flight, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my real daddy and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. But I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his child but as his partner. We 'd done whatever but skilled our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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