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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 since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of good sense. But then, if I had the sound judgment I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
I just worked 3 or four nights a week anyway, given that I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, particularly if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was always afraid someone would see me getting into a strange car, a different unusual cars and truck every time, and question what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised how numerous men desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform 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 people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, however that had gone away when I realized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men loved 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 deal with them. But 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 really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me would not injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me really was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and special and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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