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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret obstruct of common sense. But then, if I had the good sense I would not have been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he could in fact charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how lots of men wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the tips that really flushed my bank account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security person, 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 inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. However that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to really like these people for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a female, simply a girl, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I loved my papa. That had changed too and I do not know if one thing related to the other precisely, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men 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 girl next door possibly. 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 male who was making love to me actually was my papa. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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