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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of sound judgment. But then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a very long time though.
I only worked three or 4 nights a week anyway, given that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he might in fact charge more, especially if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me entering into a unusual car, a various unusual automobile whenever, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of people I 'd had sex with. I didn't would like to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way 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. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how many guys 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 people too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. However that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to actually like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, simply a girl, and knowing that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe 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.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, however that had gone away when I realized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although a few of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and live with them. But 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 lonesome due to the fact that I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a person who enjoyed me would not injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I might speak to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and loved. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine father and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, growing up not as his child however as his spouse. We 'd done whatever however skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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