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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, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. But then, if I had the common 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 had not been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he could in fact charge more, specifically if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage 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. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised how lots of people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty in the beginning, however that had actually gone away when I realized I wasn't harming anybody. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although some of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of return to their cities and cope 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 lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly 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 desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and envision the male who was making love to me actually was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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