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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 cash, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of good sense. Then, if I had the typical sense I would not have been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he could actually charge more, specifically if the person 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 really like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of men 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 cash too. Method 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 2. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd marvel how many guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the pointers 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 representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes 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. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else because I needed to actually like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, just a woman, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, but that had actually disappeared when I understood I wasn't harming anyone. The men loved me for a bit, although a few of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and live with them. They were in love with who I pretended to be for that brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a person who loved me would not hurt me, you understand? I was in love with my dad. That had actually changed too and I do not understand if something related to the other specifically, but I do not 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. Some of them wished to call me by a various name, their child'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 at first, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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