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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. Then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyhow, because I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he could in fact charge more, specifically if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly afraid someone would see me entering a strange car, a different weird car whenever, and question what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how many guys desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. However that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to actually like these people for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful often too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a female, just a lady, and understanding that I truly was simply 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 things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The men loved 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 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 lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a person who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I loved my father. That had altered too and I don't understand if one thing related to the other precisely, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, most 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 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, and that bothered me initially, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me actually was my father. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and developed and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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