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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. However 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 homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long period of time though.
I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyhow, given that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he might actually charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was always scared someone would see me getting into a odd car, a different weird cars and truck every time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Method excessive for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was outrageous, however you 'd be surprised how many guys desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the pointers that actually flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? 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 various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I could speak to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and unique and liked. And someplace, in some way along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real dad and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. But I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his child but as his spouse. We 'd done whatever but consummate our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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