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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. But then, if I had the common sense I would not 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 hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing since he might actually charge more, especially if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Method 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. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised the number of guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty at first, however that had disappeared when I realized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although a few of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of return to their cities and cope 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 enjoyed me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it.
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