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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret obstruct of sound judgment. Then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have actually 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 women do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time though.
I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, since I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing due to the fact that he could actually charge more, especially if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me getting into a strange vehicle, a different unusual cars and truck every time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 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. Way excessive for a ninth grader to spend, 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 absurd, but you 'd marvel how many men desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my daddy'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 pointers that truly flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased 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 inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these men for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty in the beginning, but that had actually gone away when I realized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although some 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. 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 understood it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a person who loved me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my papa. I could talk with him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and loved. And somewhere, in some way along that ride, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go home and see my genuine father and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it. It was set into me, growing up not as his child but as his partner. We 'd done whatever but practiced our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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