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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyway. I even started taking the cash, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. But 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 girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing due to the fact that he could really charge more, especially if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be shocked how numerous guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor slut to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the ideas that truly flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics 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. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to really like these men for an hour or more. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, simply a woman, and knowing that I truly was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for genuine and asked me if I 'd wed 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 understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that method. Like a person who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I loved my daddy. That had changed too and I do not understand if one thing pertained to the other specifically, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, the majority of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl 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 picture the guy who was making love to me really was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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