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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I thought 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 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 silly things that little women do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he could really charge more, particularly if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be stunned how lots of people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the tips that really flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to in fact like these men for an hour or more. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a female, simply a woman, and knowing that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, but that had actually disappeared when I understood I wasn't harming anyone. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and cope 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 lonely since I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that method. Like a man who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring 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 envision the male who was making love to me truly was my daddy. 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 grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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