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I even started taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing since he might actually charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd had sex with. I didn't would like to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Choosing me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised how many people desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to actually like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, simply a lady, and knowing that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The males liked 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 since I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I loved my father. That had actually altered too and I don't know if something pertained to the other exactly, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps. But a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which troubled me in the beginning, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and special and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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