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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 cash, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of sound judgment. Then, if I had the common sense I would not have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, since I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing due to the fact that he might actually charge more, particularly if the person I was opting for picked me up at school. That advantage ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me getting into a strange vehicle, a different weird vehicle each time, and question what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be stunned how lots of people desired precisely that. Like it proved 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 often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for genuine 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome 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 wouldn't hurt me, you understand? 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 wanted to call me by a different name, their child'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 actually was my daddy. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it.
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