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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of good sense. But 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing due to the fact that he could actually charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way excessive 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. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd marvel the number of people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.
The males enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who liked me would not injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring 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 woman next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me truly was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel developed and unique and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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