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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the money, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of good sense. However then, if I had the good sense I wouldn't 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 silly things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyhow, considering that I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he might really charge more, specifically if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was always afraid someone would see me entering a strange automobile, a various weird automobile whenever, 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 believed was outrageous, however you 'd be stunned how lots of people desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my savings account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing 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. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men spending for me desired a woman, 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 genuine 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 males loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for genuine and asked me if I 'd marry 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 because I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who liked me would not harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men 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 daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could speak to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and loved. And somewhere, somehow along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real father and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it. It was set into me, growing up not as his child however as his other half. We 'd done whatever but consummate our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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