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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. Then, if I had the typical sense I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do.
I had not been a little lady in a long period of time though.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyway, given that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good idea since he could really charge more, especially if the person I was opting for selected me up at school. That advantage ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly afraid somebody would see me entering a strange cars and truck, a different weird automobile every time, and question what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd be shocked how lots of men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, simply a lady, and understanding that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 since I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you know? I loved my father. That had changed too and I don't know if something related to the other exactly, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe. However 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 picture the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it.
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