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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. However then, if I had the sound judgment I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might actually charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd be stunned how numerous men desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to really like these guys for an hour or more. I needed to act more youthful often too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a lady, just a girl, and understanding that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, however that had actually gone away when I understood I wasn't injuring anybody. The men liked me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and live with them. But they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who loved 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 daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me really was my papa. 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 developed love, and I could not assist it.
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