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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the money, mainly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of common sense. Then, if I had the typical sense I would not have 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 girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd misplaced how many guys I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Method excessive for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Picking me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised the number of guys desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the pointers that truly flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing 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. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it.
The men enjoyed me for a little 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 live 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 since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you know? 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 desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I might speak to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel developed and unique and enjoyed. And somewhere, in some way along that flight, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my real daddy and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his spouse. We 'd done everything however skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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