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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of good sense. Then, if I had the common 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 women do.
I had not been a little woman in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he might in fact charge more, especially if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really 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 extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised how lots of people desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the tips that truly flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap 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 real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to in fact like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, simply a girl, and knowing that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for genuine and asked me if I 'd wed 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who liked me wouldn't injure me, you know? I was in love with my daddy. That had changed too and I don't know if something had to do with the other specifically, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at initially, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I might speak to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and liked. And someplace, in some way along that trip, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go home and see my real papa 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 developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his daughter however as his better 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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