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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of good sense. However then, if I had the good sense I would not have 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 girls do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing since he could in fact charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many 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 men too, like my father's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to actually like these men for an hour or more. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a lady, simply a girl, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The guys enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for genuine 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome due to the fact that I understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that method. Like a person who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many 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 woman next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and envision the male who was making love to me truly was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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