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It turns out I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyhow. I even began taking the money, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of sound judgment. Then, if I had the typical sense I wouldn't 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 silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time though.
I just worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyhow, considering that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing because he could really charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me entering into a odd cars and truck, a different weird car every time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it had 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. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised the number of people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my marketing 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. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger often 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 genuine skill for it.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't injure me, you know? I was in love with my papa. That had actually changed too and I do not understand if one thing related to the other specifically, but I don't 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. A few of them wished to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe. 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 could close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me really was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it.
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