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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of good sense. But then, if I had the sound judgment I would not have actually 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 hadn't been a little girl in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, particularly if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way 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. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be surprised the number of guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of cash to invest and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my bank account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics 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 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 woman perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, simply a woman, and knowing that I really 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 guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real 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 because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who liked me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I loved my papa. That had actually changed too and I don't know if one thing involved the other exactly, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, the majority 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 perhaps. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at initially, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and special and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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