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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the money, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of sound judgment. But then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't 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 woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing since he could really charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be stunned how numerous people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older people 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 suggestions that really flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like condoms 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. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a female, just a lady, and knowing that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, however that had actually gone away when I realized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least come back to their cities and cope with them. But 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 because I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many 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 could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I could speak to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and enjoyed. And somewhere, somehow along that flight, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go home and see my real father and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. But I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his spouse. We 'd done whatever however skilled our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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