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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. Then, if I had the typical 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 ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time though.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyhow, considering that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a advantage due to the fact that he could really charge more, particularly if the guy I was opting for chosen me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was always afraid someone would see me entering into a weird automobile, a different strange automobile each time, and question what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be shocked how many people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to in fact like these men for an hour or more. I needed to act younger often too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a female, just a woman, and understanding that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that method. Like a person who liked me wouldn't 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 perhaps.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I could speak to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and liked. And somewhere, somehow along that ride, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine daddy and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his partner. We 'd done whatever however skilled our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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