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I even began taking the money, mainly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the method of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little woman in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he might really charge more, specifically if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced how many guys I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Method too much 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. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was outrageous, however you 'd be surprised how many men desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a great deal of cash to spend and it was the ideas that actually flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
The men loved 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 knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who loved me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I loved my father. That had changed too and I don't understand if one thing pertained to the other precisely, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wanted to call me by a various 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, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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