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It turns out I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret obstruct of sound judgment. Then, if I had the typical sense I would not 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 girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time though.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyhow, since I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good idea due to the fact that he could really charge more, specifically if the man I was opting for picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was always scared someone would see me entering a odd automobile, a different unusual cars and truck every time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal 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 2. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be surprised the number of men wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the pointers that really flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it.
The guys enjoyed 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who liked me would not injure 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 various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me truly was my papa. I could speak with him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and enjoyed. And somewhere, somehow along that trip, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine dad and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. However I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his daughter however as his better half. We 'd done whatever but practiced our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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