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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, mostly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of good sense. Then, if I had the common sense 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 silly things that little women do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing because he could really charge more, particularly if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months currently, and I 'd lost track of the number of guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Method 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 two. Selecting me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd marvel the number of guys wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the pointers that truly flushed my savings account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require 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. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, just a lady, and understanding that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty initially, but that had disappeared when I recognized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although a few of them loved me 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 lonesome due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who loved me would not hurt 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 desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I might speak to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and liked. And someplace, somehow along that trip, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home 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 developed love, and I could not assist it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his child but as his better half. We 'd done whatever however consummate our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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