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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of sound judgment. However then, if I had the good sense I would not have actually 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 women do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might actually charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really 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 thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be stunned how many guys wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage 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 mostly. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the ideas that actually 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 guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap 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 since I had to actually like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it.
The males loved 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a person who loved me would not injure me, you know? I was in love with my papa. That had changed too and I don't know if one thing pertained to the other specifically, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a various 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 troubled me at first, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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