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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 cash, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. Then, if I had the common sense I would not have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could in fact charge more, especially if the guy 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 truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of people I 'd had sex with. I didn't would like to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way 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 2. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, however you 'd marvel the number of people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the ideas that really flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman 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 slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, but that had gone away when I understood I wasn't hurting anybody. The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least come back to their cities and deal 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 because I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a person who liked me would not harm me, you understand? 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 desired to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I could speak to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and loved. And somewhere, somehow along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine father and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. But I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his child but as his wife. We 'd done everything but skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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