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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. Then, if I had the common sense I would not have actually been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing because he might actually charge more, particularly if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way 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 2. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, 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 slut to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the pointers that actually 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 supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that method. Like a man who enjoyed me would not injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men 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 child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I could speak with him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. And someplace, in some way along that flight, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real daddy and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. However I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it. It was set into me, growing up not as his child but as his spouse. We 'd done whatever but consummate our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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