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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the money, mainly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. However then, if I had the good sense I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing because he might in fact charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of guys I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Selecting me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many guys desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these men for an hour or more. I needed to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; however never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, simply a girl, and understanding that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty at first, but that had actually disappeared when I realized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men loved me for a little bit, although a few of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and cope with them. However 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 lonesome since I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me would not harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them wanting 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 lady next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me actually was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and developed and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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