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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of sound judgment. Then, if I had the common 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 silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he could in fact charge more, particularly if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity 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 invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how lots of guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to fuck and draw . 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 lot of money to spend and it was the tips that actually flushed my checking account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these men for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, simply a woman, and understanding that I truly was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill 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 guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 lonely since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a man who loved me would not injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting 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 might close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel developed and special and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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