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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. Then, if I had the typical sense I would not have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyway, considering that I needed to be home 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 in fact charge more, specifically if the man I was opting for chosen me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was always scared somebody would see me entering into a weird cars and truck, a various weird cars and truck whenever, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash 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 two. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd marvel the number of men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a female, simply a woman, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, however that had gone away when I realized I wasn't harming anyone. The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and deal 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 man who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I could speak with him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and special and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that flight, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real dad and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his better half. We 'd done whatever however consummate our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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