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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyway. I even started taking the money, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of common sense. Then, if I had the typical sense I wouldn't have actually 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 women do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing due to the fact that he might in fact charge more, specifically if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd marvel the number of men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my daddy'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 manager, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these guys for an hour or more. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, just a woman, and understanding that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The guys enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real 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 because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a man who loved me would not hurt me, you understand? I was in love with my daddy. That had actually altered too and I do not know if something pertained to the other precisely, 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 different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at initially, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me really was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it.
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