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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of sound judgment. But then, if I had the sound judgment I wouldn't have actually 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 girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing because he might in fact charge more, particularly if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege 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 two months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way excessive for a ninth grader to spend, 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 additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many men desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the suggestions that really flushed my checking account. Deke provided 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 transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these people for an hour or more. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a lady, just a woman, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them wanting 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 girl next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my papa. I might talk with him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and liked. And someplace, somehow along that flight, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine father and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. However I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, growing up not as his child however as his spouse. We 'd done whatever but skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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