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It turns out I liked being an escort, a lot more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, mainly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt obstruct of sound judgment. But then, if I had the good sense I wouldn't 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 girl in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing due to the fact that he could actually charge more, especially if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be stunned how many men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the tips that really flushed my checking account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transportation 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. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a female, just a lady, and understanding that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyway, 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 in the beginning, but that had disappeared when I understood I wasn't hurting anyone. The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of return 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 lonesome since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that method. Like a man who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I loved my daddy. That had changed too and I don't understand if something involved the other precisely, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe. 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 imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my dad. I could speak with him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and special and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that trip, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real daddy and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it. It was set into me, growing up not as his daughter however as his other half. We 'd done everything however practiced our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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