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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the money, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of good sense. However then, if I had the common sense I would not have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might actually charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Method 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. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised how many people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the ideas that truly flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real 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, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a person who loved me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I loved my dad. That had changed too and I don't understand if something had to do with the other specifically, but 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. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me truly was my father. I could talk with him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and liked. And somewhere, somehow along that trip, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine daddy and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. However I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his partner. We 'd done whatever however skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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