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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, mainly since 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 wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I had not been a little girl in a very long time though.
I just worked three or 4 nights a week anyhow, since I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he said that was a advantage due to the fact that he could actually charge more, especially if the guy I was choosing selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was always afraid someone would see me entering a unusual car, a different weird cars and truck each time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd had sex with. I didn't would like to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way excessive for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Picking me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised how many men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk 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 in some cases too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who liked me would not harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them wanting 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 maybe.
I might close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me actually was my papa. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it.
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