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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyway. I even started taking the money, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. Then, if I had the common sense I would not 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 silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing since he could actually charge more, specifically if the man 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 actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Method excessive 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 extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised the number of people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, simply a lady, and knowing that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real 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 whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty at first, however that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men liked me for a bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of return to their cities and deal with them. However 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 because I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who loved me would not hurt me, you know? I was in love with my papa. That had changed too and I do not know if something involved the other specifically, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex 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 different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe. But a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which troubled me at first, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me truly was my dad. I might speak to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and developed and enjoyed. And somewhere, somehow along that ride, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real dad and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. But I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his other half. We 'd done whatever but practiced our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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