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It turns out I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. But 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 girls do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, especially if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be shocked how lots of men wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms 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 true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to really like these people for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a female, just a lady, and understanding that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who liked me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I loved my papa. That had actually altered too and I don't understand if one thing pertained to the other specifically, 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 wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at 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 really was my papa. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and special and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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