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It ends up I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, mostly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret obstruct of sound judgment. Then, if I had the common sense I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
I just worked three or 4 nights a week anyhow, because I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he might actually charge more, particularly if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me entering into a strange car, a various odd car each time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, 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 additional 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised the number of people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the ideas that truly flushed my bank account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought 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 inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had actually been a whore. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty initially, but that had disappeared when I recognized I wasn't harming anybody. The men loved me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real and asked me if I 'd marry them, or at least return to their cities and deal 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 because I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I was in love with my daddy. That had changed too and I do not understand if something had to do with the other exactly, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished 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 started liking it.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and liked. And somewhere, in some way along that trip, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine father and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. However I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his better half. We 'd done everything but skilled our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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