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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I believed I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of good sense. But 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 homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
I only worked three or 4 nights a week anyhow, considering that I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he could really charge more, especially if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That benefit ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly afraid someone would see me entering a odd car, a various odd car every time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Method 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. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd marvel how many men wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the ideas that actually flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. However that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these men for an hour or more. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me wanted a woman, just a girl, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my tutelary saint. I 'd felt actually guilty in the beginning, however that had actually gone away when I understood I wasn't harming anyone. The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real and asked me if I 'd wed them, or a minimum of return to their cities and deal with them. But 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 lonesome because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you know? I was in love with my father. That had altered too and I don't understand if something had to do with the other specifically, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, the majority of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady 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 began liking it.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and developed and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it.
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