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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of good 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 ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
I just worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyhow, since I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he might actually charge more, specifically if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me getting into a unusual car, a different unusual cars and truck every time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Method 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 2. Choosing me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, however you 'd be surprised the number of people desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for genuine and asked me if I 'd wed 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 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, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you know? 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 different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my papa. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and liked. And somewhere, somehow along that trip, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine father and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his partner. We 'd done everything but skilled our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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