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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, primarily since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. But then, if I had the good sense 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 hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing because he could in fact charge more, especially 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 actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be shocked how lots of guys desired exactly 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 men too, like my father's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the ideas that really flushed my savings account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger often too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, just a woman, and knowing that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real 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 due to the fact that I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that method. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them wanting 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 girl next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me truly was my papa. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and special and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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