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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. Then, if I had the typical 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 ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing because he could in fact charge more, specifically if the guy 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 invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be stunned how lots of people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
The males enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 lonely because I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you know? 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 desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and envision the male who was making love to me actually was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it.
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