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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, primarily due to the fact that I was much too useful 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a very long time though.
I only worked 3 or four nights a week anyway, given that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could 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 extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was always scared somebody would see me entering into a weird car, a various odd car whenever, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Choosing me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be surprised the number of guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the tips that really flushed my checking account. Deke offered 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 man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need 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 people for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a lady, just 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 talent for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, 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 liked me for genuine and asked me if I 'd marry 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 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, mainly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I might speak to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and enjoyed. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine daddy and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his child but as his wife. We 'd done everything however consummate our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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