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Harlee , 31 y
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It ends up 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 practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. Then, if I had the typical sense I would not have been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do. I hadn't been a little woman in a long time. I only worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, because I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 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 person I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me entering into a odd automobile, a various odd car whenever, and question what was going on.

I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Selecting me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd marvel the number of guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the pointers that actually flushed my checking account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it.

The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 lonesome because I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me wouldn't injure me, you know? I loved my daddy. That had changed too and I don't know if one thing involved the other exactly, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their child'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 bothered me at initially, but then it didn't and I began liking it.

I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me really was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and liked. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go home and see my real daddy and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his child however as his spouse. We 'd done everything but practiced our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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