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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I believed 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 good sense. But then, if I had the good sense I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could in fact 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 really like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd marvel how many people desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, however that had disappeared when I understood I wasn't harming anyone. The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least come back to their cities and live 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I loved my papa. That had actually changed too and I don't know if something related to the other exactly, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, the majority of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly. But a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which troubled me in the beginning, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and picture 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 special and grown-up and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it.
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