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It ends up I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. But then, if I had the common sense I would not 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 silly things that little women do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he could actually charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be stunned how numerous guys desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the tips that actually flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing 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. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these people for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a female, just a girl, and knowing that I truly was simply 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 anyhow, 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 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 because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't harm me, you know? I was in love with my father. That had actually changed too and I do not know if one thing involved the other exactly, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty men 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 various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps. But a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at first, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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