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It turns out I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of common sense. 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 ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing due to the fact that he might really charge more, especially if the man I was going with chosen 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 almost two months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money 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 was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many men wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, simply a woman, and understanding that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, but that had gone away when I realized I wasn't harming anybody. The men enjoyed me for a bit, although a few of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and live with them. But 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 since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who loved me would not hurt me, you know? I loved my daddy. That had actually changed too and I don't know if one thing involved the other exactly, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps. However a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which bothered me initially, but 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 talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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