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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the money, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. However then, if I had the good 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 ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he might in fact charge more, especially if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, however you 'd be stunned how lots of guys wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of cash to invest and it was the ideas that really flushed my savings account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics 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. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else because I needed to actually like these men for an hour or more. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. None of the men spending for me wanted a lady, simply a lady, and knowing that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt truly guilty in the beginning, however that had disappeared when I understood I wasn't harming anyone. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although some of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and cope with them. However they loved who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I loved my father. That had actually altered too and I don't know if something involved the other specifically, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished 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, 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 dad. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and unique and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it.
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