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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of good sense. Then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have 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 girls do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he might actually charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be shocked how numerous people desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the ideas that really flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to in fact like these people for an hour or more. I needed to act younger often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, just a girl, and knowing that I truly 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 skill for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, but that had gone away when I realized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least come back to their cities and live with them. However 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 truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who loved me wouldn't 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 desired to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and envision the male who was making love to me actually was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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