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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. Then, if I had the typical 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 silly things that little women do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
I only worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, considering that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good idea because he might really charge more, especially if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was always scared somebody would see me entering a strange vehicle, a various odd vehicle whenever, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months currently, and I 'd misplaced how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal 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. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd be surprised the number of people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty initially, however that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't injuring anybody. The men loved me for a little bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of 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 lonely because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a guy who enjoyed me would not harm me, you know? I was in love with my papa. That had altered too and I don't understand if one thing involved the other precisely, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people 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 lady next door maybe. But a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which bothered me initially, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I could speak to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and liked. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go home and see my real daddy and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his partner. We 'd done everything but practiced our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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