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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of sound judgment. Then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have 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 ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he might in fact charge more, especially if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way excessive 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. Choosing me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd marvel how many people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the tips that really flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics 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. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to actually like these guys for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, just a girl, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it. I had a talent 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 slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, but that had actually disappeared when I realized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men loved me for a bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of return to their cities and deal with them. However 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 since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who loved me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I was in love with my father. That had changed too and I do not know if something had to do with the other specifically, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at initially, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.
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