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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. But then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he might actually charge more, especially if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd be stunned how many guys desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, 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. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to actually like these people for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, simply a woman, and knowing that I truly was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent 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.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, however that had gone away when I realized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although a few of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and cope with them. However 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 lonely since I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I was in love with my dad. That had actually altered too and I do not understand if something had to do with the other specifically, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men 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 child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at initially, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me really was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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