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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret obstruct of common sense. 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 ridiculous things that little women do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
I just worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, because I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he might really charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me getting into a odd cars and truck, a various odd car each time, and question 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 extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised how lots of people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of cash to spend and it was the tips that actually flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap 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 considering that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever 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 patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty initially, but that had disappeared when I realized I wasn't harming anybody. 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 a minimum of come back to their cities and deal 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 much safer that way. Like a man who loved me would not harm 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 various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and developed and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it.
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