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It turns out 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 regret get in the way of good sense. However then, if I had the sound judgment I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a very long time though.
I just worked three or 4 nights a week anyhow, since I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing because he could actually charge more, specifically if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was always scared someone would see me getting into a weird vehicle, a different strange car each time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't would like to know, but 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. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd marvel how many people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of cash to invest and it was the pointers that truly flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics 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. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to actually like these people for an hour or more. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, just a girl, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty at first, but that had disappeared when I understood I wasn't injuring anyone. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them liked me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return 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 really me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you know? I loved my father. That had actually changed too and I do not understand if one thing involved the other precisely, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, the majority 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 girl next door possibly. However a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which bothered me 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 actually was my papa. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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