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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of sound judgment. However then, if I had the common sense I would not have actually been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a very long time though.
I just worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyhow, since I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he could in fact charge more, especially if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was always scared someone would see me getting into a weird automobile, a various weird automobile every time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way excessive for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be surprised how many people wanted 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 papa's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me wanted a lady, just a girl, and understanding that I really 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 talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The males liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who loved me would not injure me, you understand? I loved my dad. That had changed too and I do not know if one thing had to do with the other specifically, however I don't 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 child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps. But a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which troubled me in the beginning, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and loved. And someplace, in some way along that flight, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my genuine papa and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. However I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was set into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his better half. We 'd done everything but practiced our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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