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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, mostly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. But then, if I had the good 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 hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing because he might really charge more, specifically if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how many guys desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the tips that actually flushed my bank account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk 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 since I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
The males loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for genuine and asked me if I 'd wed 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 lonesome due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I was in love with my papa. That had altered too and I don't understand if something related to the other specifically, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty guys or something, the majority of them desiring 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 woman 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 imagine the male who was making love to me really was my daddy. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it.
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