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It turns out I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of good sense. But then, if I had the good sense I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
I just worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyhow, 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 really charge more, particularly if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was always scared someone would see me getting into a unusual automobile, a different odd car every time, and wonder what was going on.
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 believed was absurd, but you 'd be stunned how numerous guys 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 people too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to really like these people for an hour or more. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, simply a lady, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, but that had actually disappeared when I realized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men liked me for a little bit, although a few of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and live with them. However they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome because I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them desiring 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 possibly.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it.
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