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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the money, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of good 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 silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
I just worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, since I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he could really charge more, especially if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me entering a strange vehicle, a various unusual vehicle every time, and wonder what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how many people desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the tips that really flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require 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. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else because I needed to really like these people for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me desired a lady, just a woman, and knowing that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, however that had actually gone away when I recognized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men liked me for a bit, although a few of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least return 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 knew it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that method. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I was in love with my father. That had changed too and I don't know if one thing pertained to the other precisely, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps. But a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which bothered me initially, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel special and developed and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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