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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of sound judgment. Then, if I had the common sense I would not have actually 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.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised how lots of men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to in fact like these men for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a lady, simply a girl, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The males enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 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 really me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who liked me would not harm me, you know? I loved my daddy. That had actually changed too and I don't understand if something pertained to the other specifically, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at initially, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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