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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of good sense. But then, if I had the good sense I wouldn't 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 ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, particularly if the guy 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 nearly 2 months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't would like to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Picking me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd marvel the number of people wanted precisely 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 men too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to actually like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, however that had actually disappeared when I realized I wasn't injuring anybody. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and cope with them. But they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many 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 girl next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it.
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