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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of sound judgment. However then, if I had the sound judgment I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing since he could really charge more, especially if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd be surprised how many men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to suck 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. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these guys 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 loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that method. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I was in love with my papa. That had changed too and I do not know if something pertained to the other exactly, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe. However a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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