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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, mainly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of sound judgment. Then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing because he could in fact charge more, especially if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity 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 invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd be stunned 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 draw . These were all older guys too, like my papa'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 ideas that truly flushed my savings account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security man, 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. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else because I needed to actually like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a woman, just a woman, and understanding that I truly 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 stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for genuine and asked me if I 'd marry 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 really me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a person who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I loved my papa. That had altered too and I don't know if one thing related to the other precisely, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at initially, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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