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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 money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. But then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't 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 ladies do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he might really charge more, particularly if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months currently, and I 'd lost track of the number of guys I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way 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. Picking me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how many men wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. However that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men spending for me desired a woman, just a lady, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think 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 males enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a man who loved me wouldn't harm me, you know? I loved my papa. That had actually changed too and I do not understand if one thing pertained to the other precisely, however 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 wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe. But a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me in the beginning, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me actually was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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