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It turns out I liked being an escort, far more than I thought I would anyhow. I even began taking the cash, mainly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of good sense. Then, if I had the typical sense I wouldn't have actually been an escort either. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he might really charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
Method 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 thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how lots of guys wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the tips that truly flushed my bank account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said 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 bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap 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 true. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these people for an hour or more. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. None of the men spending for me desired a woman, simply a girl, and knowing that I actually 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 much better I got.
The males loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 lonesome because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a person who loved me would not hurt me, you know? I loved my daddy. That had changed too and I do not understand if something had to do with the other exactly, but I don't 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 wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps. However a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which 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 actually was my papa. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and unique and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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