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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of sound judgment. But then, if I had the sound judgment I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyhow, because 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 thing because he could really charge more, especially if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That benefit ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me entering into a unusual automobile, a different odd automobile whenever, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, however it had 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. Picking me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd marvel the number of guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my papa'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 representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
The males liked 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome since I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who liked me would not hurt me, you know? I was in love with my dad. That had actually altered too and I don't understand if one thing involved the other specifically, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could speak with him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and liked. And somewhere, somehow along that flight, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go home and see my genuine father and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. But I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it. It was configured into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his other half. We 'd done everything but skilled our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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