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I even started taking the money, primarily since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. 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 time.
I only worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, since I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good idea since he might actually charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly scared somebody would see me entering a odd automobile, a various odd cars and truck each time, and wonder what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd be surprised how many men wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the tips that really flushed my bank account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms 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. However that wasn't true. 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 in some cases too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me wanted a woman, just a lady, and knowing that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome due to the fact that I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me wouldn't harm me, you know? I loved my father. That had altered too and I do not know if something had to do with the other precisely, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at first, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me truly was my dad. I could talk with him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and loved. And someplace, somehow along that trip, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real daddy and nearly forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. However I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his other half. We 'd done everything however consummate our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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