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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyway. I even started taking the money, primarily because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of good sense. But then, if I had the sound judgment I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time.
I just worked three or 4 nights a week anyway, given that I needed 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 might really charge more, especially if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me entering into a odd automobile, a different odd automobile whenever, and question what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be shocked how many men desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the tips that really flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, just a girl, and knowing that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real 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.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real 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 since I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a person who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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