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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the cash, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
I only worked 3 or four nights a week anyway, given that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing since he could really charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me entering a unusual vehicle, a different unusual vehicle each time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd marvel how many guys desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous due to the fact that 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 need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt really guilty at first, however that had disappeared when I realized I wasn't harming anyone. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and cope 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 because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a person who loved me would not hurt me, you understand? I was in love with my papa. That had actually altered too and I do not know if one thing had to do with the other precisely, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex 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 daughter'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 troubled me at initially, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me actually was my father. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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