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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of sound judgment. Then, if I had the common 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 woman in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he could in fact charge more, particularly if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the pointers that really flushed my checking account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms 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 since I had to actually like these men for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that method. Like a man who liked me would not injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them wanting 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 dad. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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