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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of sound judgment. But then, if I had the sound judgment 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 just worked 3 or 4 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 great thing since he might in fact charge more, specifically if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it. I was always scared someone would see me getting into a weird cars and truck, a different weird vehicle whenever, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Selecting me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd marvel the number of guys desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to really like these guys for an hour or more. I needed to act more youthful often too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a lady, simply a lady, and understanding that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, however that had disappeared when I realized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least come back to their cities and cope 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 understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that method. Like a person who loved me wouldn't harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them wanting 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 maybe.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my father. I might speak to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and special and loved. And somewhere, in some way along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real papa and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. But I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his daughter however as his wife. We 'd done everything however practiced our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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