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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of sound judgment. But then, if I had the good sense I would not have actually 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 women do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing due to the fact that he might in fact charge more, especially if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months currently, and I 'd misplaced how many people I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash 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. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd marvel how many people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older men 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 cash to invest and it was the tips that really flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security man, 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 tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 knew it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me would not harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel developed and unique and enjoyed. And someplace, somehow along that flight, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my real dad and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. However I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child however as his better half. We 'd done everything however practiced our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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