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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the money, primarily since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret obstruct of good sense. 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 hadn't been a little lady in a long period of 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 stated that was a great thing because he could really charge more, specifically if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it. I was always scared someone would see me entering into a odd vehicle, a different strange cars and truck whenever, and wonder what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd be stunned how many guys wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. However that wasn't true. 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 more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. None of the men paying for me wanted a lady, just a lady, and understanding that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, 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 tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, but that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't harming anybody. The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of return to their cities and cope with them. However they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who loved me would not injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys 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 child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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