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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, mainly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. However 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 homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he might really charge more, especially if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how many men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to actually like these guys for an hour or more. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a female, simply a lady, and knowing that I actually was simply 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 things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 because I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that method. Like a man who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me truly was my papa. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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