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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyhow. I even began taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of sound judgment. However then, if I had the common 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 woman in a long time.
I just worked three or 4 nights a week anyway, because I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he might actually charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was always scared somebody would see me entering into a odd car, a various unusual automobile each time, and wonder what was going on.
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 believed was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised how many guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to really like these people for an hour or more. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me wanted a female, just a girl, and understanding that I truly was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real 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 lonely since I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that method. Like a man who liked me would not injure 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 wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me actually was my papa. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and developed and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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