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It turns out I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret obstruct of common sense. Then, if I had the typical 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 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, considering that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing because he might really charge more, especially if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me entering into a unusual vehicle, a various weird automobile every time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way excessive for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, however you 'd be surprised how many men wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.
The males enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me would not hurt me, you know? 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 child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I might speak with him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine daddy 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 assist it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child however as his better half. We 'd done everything but consummate our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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