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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret obstruct of good sense. However then, if I had the good sense I would not 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 silly things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time though.
I only worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, given that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing due to the fact that he might in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was opting for picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me entering into a strange cars and truck, a various unusual cars and truck each time, and question what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised how many people desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the suggestions that actually flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else because I needed to actually like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a female, simply a lady, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, but that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and deal 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 lonely since I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me would not harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them wanting 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 perhaps.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me really was my father. I might speak to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and enjoyed. And somewhere, somehow along that flight, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real dad and practically forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his child however as his other half. We 'd done whatever but skilled our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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