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It ends up 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 guilt obstruct of good sense. But then, if I had the sound judgment I would not have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing because he could actually charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
Method 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 shocked how numerous guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to really like these people for an hour or more. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a female, just a girl, and knowing that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd wed 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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