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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the money, mostly because 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 common sense I would not have 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 women do.
I had not been a little girl in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he might in fact charge more, particularly if the person I was going with chosen 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 almost two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't would like to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Selecting me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised the number of men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the tips that actually flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased 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 because I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty at first, however that had actually gone away when I understood I wasn't injuring anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least come back to their cities and cope 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 lonesome due to the fact that I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who liked me would not harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them wanting 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 lady next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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