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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. But then, if I had the sound judgment I would not have actually been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a very long time though.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyway, considering that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he might really charge more, particularly if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly afraid someone would see me getting into a odd automobile, a different odd vehicle whenever, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way too much 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 was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how many people desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older men 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 invest and it was the tips that actually flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing 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 more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd wed 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 since I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I might speak to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that flight, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real daddy and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child however as his wife. We 'd done everything but skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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