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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the money, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. Then, if I had the common sense I would not have 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 though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing since he might actually charge more, especially if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
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 believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many men desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to actually like these men for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, just a girl, and knowing that I really was simply 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 much better I got.
The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for genuine 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 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 method. Like a man who liked me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I loved my daddy. That had actually altered too and I don't know if one thing had to do with the other specifically, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty guys 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 lady next door perhaps. However a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which bothered me at first, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and special and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it.
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