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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of common sense. Then, if I had the common 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 ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time.
I just worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, 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 good thing since he could actually charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me entering a weird cars and truck, a different weird vehicle every time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of people I 'd had sex with. I didn't would like to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash 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 two. Picking me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, however you 'd marvel how many guys desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa'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 agent, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me wanted a lady, just a girl, and knowing that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty at first, but that had gone away when I understood I wasn't hurting 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 a minimum of 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 lonesome since I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't injure 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 desired to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and imagine 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 developed and special and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that trip, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine papa and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his spouse. We 'd done everything but practiced our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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