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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, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of good sense. Then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't 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 girls do. I had not been a little lady in a long time. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing because he might in fact charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.

I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd misplaced how many guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Method excessive for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised how many people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a great deal of cash to spend and it was the suggestions that really flushed my checking account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes 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 tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to really like these guys for an hour or two. I needed to act younger often too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, simply a lady, and knowing that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.

Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, but that had disappeared when I understood I wasn't harming anyone. The men loved me for a bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return to their cities and cope with them. However 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 because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who liked me would not harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps.

I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I could talk with him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and liked. And someplace, somehow along that trip, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine father and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. However I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his better half. We 'd done whatever but consummate our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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