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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 money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. However then, if I had the good sense I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
I only worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, considering that I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he might in fact charge more, specifically if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was always afraid someone would see me entering a odd car, a different weird automobile whenever, 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 extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be shocked how many guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the tips that actually flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing 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. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to in fact like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, just a woman, and understanding that I actually 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 skill for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 lonely due to the fact that I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who loved me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them wanting 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 lady next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and picture the male who was making love to me really was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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