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It turns out I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. But then, if I had the good 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 girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
I just worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, considering that I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he said that was a advantage due to the fact that he could actually charge more, specifically if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me getting into a odd automobile, a various strange automobile every time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd misplaced how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Selecting me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd marvel how many guys desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the tips that truly flushed my savings account. Deke gave 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 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 inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a guy who enjoyed me would not harm me, you understand? I was in love with my father. That had changed too and I don't understand if one thing involved the other precisely, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various 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 troubled me at initially, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and imagine the male who was making love to me truly was my father. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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