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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of good sense. But then, if I had the sound judgment I would not have 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 ladies do.
I had not been a little girl in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he could actually charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity 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 misplaced how many guys I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money 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. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd marvel how many guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the ideas that truly flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap 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 considering that I had to in fact like these men for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a woman, just a woman, and knowing that I actually 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 things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, but that had actually disappeared when I understood I wasn't hurting anyone. The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 lonesome since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that method. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I was in love with my father. That had actually altered too and I do not know if one thing had to do with the other exactly, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring 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 girl next door maybe. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at initially, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my father. I might speak with him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and enjoyed. And someplace, somehow along that flight, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real daddy and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his other half. We 'd done everything but skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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