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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret obstruct of good sense. However 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 homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a very long time though.
I only worked 3 or four nights a week anyway, given that I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a advantage because he could actually charge more, particularly if the guy I was opting for picked me up at school. That privilege ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me entering into a weird vehicle, a different strange car whenever, and wonder what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be stunned how lots of men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, 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 mainly. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the tips that truly flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics 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. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a female, simply a girl, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for genuine 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that method. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many 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 guy who was making love to me actually was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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