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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of good sense. But then, if I had the sound judgment I wouldn't 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 silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time though.
I just worked three or 4 nights a week anyhow, because I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a advantage due to the fact that he might actually charge more, particularly if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me entering into a weird car, a various unusual cars and truck every time, and question what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be stunned how numerous guys desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real 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 actually guilty in the beginning, however that had gone away when I realized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and live 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 lonesome due to the fact that I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a guy who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I loved my dad. That had actually changed too and I don't understand if one thing had to do with the other exactly, however I do not 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. A few of them wished to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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