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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. Then, if I had the typical sense I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply 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 lady in a very long time though.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyhow, since I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he might actually charge more, especially if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was always afraid someone would see me entering a odd vehicle, a different weird automobile every time, and question what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how lots of men wanted exactly 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 daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the suggestions that actually flushed my checking account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need 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. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to really like these guys for an hour or more. I needed to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, simply a lady, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The guys enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 lonely because I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that method. Like a man who liked me would not hurt me, you know? I was in love with my papa. That had changed too and I do not know if one thing had to do with the other precisely, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, the majority of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at first, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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