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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, primarily because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. However then, if I had the common sense I would not 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 women do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time though.
I only worked three or 4 nights a week anyway, considering that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he could actually charge more, specifically if the guy I was opting for picked me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly afraid someone would see me entering into a weird car, a different strange automobile each time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of people I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Method excessive 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 extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised the number of guys desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my advertising 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. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to actually like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty at first, however that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't hurting anyone. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least come back to their cities and deal with them. But they loved 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 knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who loved me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I was in love with my papa. That had altered too and I don't know if something had to do with the other specifically, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at initially, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I could speak with him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and enjoyed. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real father and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his child but as his spouse. We 'd done everything but consummate our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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