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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of good sense. Then, if I had the typical 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 ladies do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he could actually charge more, especially if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be stunned how lots of men wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me desired a woman, simply a lady, and knowing that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it. I had a talent 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 convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, but that had gone away when I realized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men loved me for a bit, although some of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least come back 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me would not injure me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me really was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it.
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