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It turns out I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of common sense. However then, if I had the good sense I wouldn't 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 girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing since he might really charge more, especially if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd be surprised how many people desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transport 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 considering that I had to actually like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for genuine 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome due to the fact that I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and developed and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.
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