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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. But then, if I had the sound judgment I would not have 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 girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he might really charge more, particularly if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Method 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 two. Choosing me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing 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. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to actually like these men for an hour or more. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a lady, simply a woman, and knowing that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them wanting 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 lady next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and enjoyed. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine papa and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. But I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child but as his better half. We 'd done whatever however skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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