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It turns out I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of good sense. But then, if I had the good sense I would not have actually been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little girl in a very long time though.
I just worked three or 4 nights a week anyhow, because I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he could in fact charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me entering into a odd car, a various unusual car each time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Method too much 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. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be surprised the number of men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real 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 primarily. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 lonesome due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't injure 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 various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me really was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and unique and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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