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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, specifically if the person 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.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be stunned how lots of guys wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me wanted a female, simply a girl, and knowing that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty at first, however that had actually gone away when I understood I wasn't hurting anybody. The men loved me for a little bit, although a few of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and cope 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 lonesome since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many 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 possibly.
I might close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me truly was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and developed and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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