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It turns out I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyway. I even started taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way 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 homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, particularly 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 actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash 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. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised how many guys desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I needed to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a female, simply a woman, and understanding that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent 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 enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 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 truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you understand? I loved my dad. That had changed too and I don't understand if something involved the other specifically, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty guys or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a various 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 first, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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