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I even began taking the cash, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could really charge more, especially if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't would like to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way excessive for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised the number of people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor slut to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it.
The males enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 lonesome due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who liked me would not injure me, you know? I loved my father. That had actually changed too and I do not understand if one thing involved the other exactly, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe. 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 could close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me really was my papa. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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