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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, mostly because 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 woman in a very long time though.
I only worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, given that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good idea since he could actually charge more, especially if the person I was opting for 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 always scared somebody would see me getting into a unusual automobile, a different weird automobile every time, and wonder what was going on.
Way 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, however you 'd be stunned how lots of guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the tips that actually flushed my checking 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 agent, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need 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. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to actually like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, simply a girl, and knowing that I really 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 things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, but that had actually gone away when I realized I wasn't injuring anybody. The men liked 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 deal 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 lonesome due to the fact that I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who loved me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them desiring 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 lady next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and special and enjoyed. And someplace, in some way along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real father and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. But I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his spouse. We 'd done whatever however skilled our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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