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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of sound judgment. But then, if I had the sound judgment I would not 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 ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he might really charge more, particularly if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way too much 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. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd marvel how many men wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; however never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a female, simply a lady, and knowing that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, 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 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome due to the fact that I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that method. Like a person who loved me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many 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 woman next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I could talk to him, inform 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 couldn't help it.
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