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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of sound judgment. However then, if I had the sound judgment I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of guys I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Method excessive for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Picking me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd marvel how many guys wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to actually like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it.
The males enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who liked me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me actually was my daddy. 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 developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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