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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of common sense. Then, if I had the common 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 ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing since he could actually charge more, especially if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of guys I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, however 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 was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be surprised how many people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my daddy'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 bought my clothes and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, but that had disappeared when I realized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men 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 return to their cities and deal 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 really me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who loved me would not injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring 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 woman next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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