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It turns out I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, primarily because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of sound judgment. 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 homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing due to the fact that he might actually charge more, particularly if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege 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 invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd be shocked how numerous men wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of cash to invest and it was the ideas that really flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd marry 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 lonely due to the fact that I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who liked me would not harm 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 different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me actually was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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