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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the money, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of good sense. Then, if I had the common sense I would not have actually 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 ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time.
I just worked 3 or four nights a week anyway, since I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good idea because he could actually charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was always afraid someone would see me getting into a weird automobile, a various strange automobile each time, and question what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, however you 'd be stunned how many guys wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, but that had disappeared when I understood I wasn't injuring anybody. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and cope with them. But they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me truly was my father. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it.
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