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It ends up I liked being an escort, a lot more than I thought I would anyway. I even began taking the money, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. However 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a very long time though.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyhow, given that I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a advantage since he might actually charge more, specifically if the person I was opting for picked me up at school. That privilege ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was always scared somebody would see me entering a unusual cars and truck, a various odd vehicle every time, and question what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be stunned how lots of men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or more. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me wanted a lady, just a woman, and understanding that I really was just 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 things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The males enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely due to the fact that I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me would not injure me, you know? I was in love with my father. That had actually changed too and I don't know if something had to do with the other specifically, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting 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 woman next door maybe. But a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and imagine the guy who was making love to me truly was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it.
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