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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the cash, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of good sense. However then, if I had the good sense I would not 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 girls do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long period of time though.
I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, since 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 excellent thing because he might actually charge more, particularly if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was always afraid someone would see me entering a weird automobile, a different unusual car each time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd misplaced how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, however it had 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. Selecting me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, however you 'd marvel how many people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl maybe 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 comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty at first, however that had gone away when I realized I wasn't harming anybody. The men liked me for a bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a man who enjoyed me would not harm me, you know? I was in love with my father. That had changed too and I do not understand if one thing had to do with the other precisely, but 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 wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at initially, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me truly was my dad. I might speak to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and enjoyed. And someplace, in some way along that ride, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine papa and practically forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. But I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it. It was set into me, growing up not as his child but as his spouse. We 'd done whatever however skilled our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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