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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. However then, if I had the sound judgment I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been simply 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 lady in a very long time though.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyway, given that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he might in fact charge more, especially if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That benefit ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly afraid someone would see me entering into a unusual vehicle, a various strange automobile each time, and question what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be shocked how many people desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, however that had gone away when I understood I wasn't injuring anyone. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of return to their cities and cope with them. However 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 lonely since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who liked me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys 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 daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and imagine the male who was making love to me truly was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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