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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, primarily since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. Then, if I had the typical 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 ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he might really charge more, particularly if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd marvel the number of men wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. However that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to actually like these men for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a woman, 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 anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The males 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most 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 girl next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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