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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the money, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. But then, if I had the good sense I would not have actually 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 lady in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing because he might really charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd misplaced how many guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash 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 two. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd marvel how many men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the tips that actually flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty in the beginning, however that had disappeared when I recognized I wasn't harming anybody. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and deal 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 since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who loved me wouldn't injure me, you know? I loved my father. That had changed too and I don't know if one thing had to do with the other exactly, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps. However a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which troubled me initially, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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