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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyway. I even started taking the money, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of sound judgment. Then, if I had the typical sense I would not 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 ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing because he could actually charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be shocked how many people desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it.
The males 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 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 man who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? 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 daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and envision the male who was making love to me actually was my father. I could talk to him, inform him I liked 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 assist it.
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