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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, mostly because I was much too useful 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 simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
I just worked 3 or four nights a week anyway, because I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could actually charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me getting into a unusual automobile, a different strange vehicle every time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months currently, and I 'd misplaced how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way excessive for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd marvel the number of people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of cash to spend and it was the ideas that truly flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, 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. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else because I needed to really like these guys for an hour or more. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a lady, just a lady, and knowing that I truly 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 anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The males loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't injure me, you know? I was in love with my papa. That had changed too and I don't know if one thing pertained to the other exactly, but I don't 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. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps. 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 think of the man who was making love to me truly was my dad. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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