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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
I only worked three or 4 nights a week anyway, since I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might really charge more, specifically if the person I was opting for picked me up at school. That benefit ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was always afraid someone would see me entering a odd automobile, a different weird automobile each time, and question what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd be stunned how many people desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. However that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, just a lady, and understanding that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome due to the fact that I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who loved me wouldn't injure me, you know? 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 wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me truly was my father. I could speak with him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and loved. And someplace, in some way along that trip, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine daddy and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his child but as his partner. We 'd done whatever but skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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