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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of sound judgment. However then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time though.
I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyhow, given that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good idea since he could in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was opting for selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly afraid somebody would see me entering into a odd cars and truck, a different odd automobile each time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months currently, and I 'd misplaced how many people 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 spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd marvel how many people desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the tips that truly flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform 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 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a female, just 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 talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The guys 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 understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who liked me wouldn't injure me, you know? I loved my dad. That had actually changed too and I do not understand if one thing involved the other specifically, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty men or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter'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 bothered me at first, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I could speak with him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and loved. And someplace, somehow along that flight, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go home and see my real papa and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his spouse. We 'd done everything however practiced our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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