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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, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical 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 actually been an escort either. I would have been simply 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 girl in a long time though.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyway, given that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a advantage since he could actually charge more, especially if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me getting into a strange vehicle, a various weird car every time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months currently, and I 'd misplaced how many guys 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 cash 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 2. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how many men wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor slut to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the suggestions that actually flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these guys for an hour or more. I needed to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a lady, just a woman, and knowing that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty in the beginning, however that had actually gone away when I realized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men liked me for a bit, although some of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of return to their cities and live with them. However they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me truly was my father. I might speak with him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and liked. And someplace, somehow along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my genuine daddy and practically forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his wife. We 'd done whatever however practiced our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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