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I even began taking the cash, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he might really charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be stunned how many guys wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to really like these people for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, simply a lady, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The guys enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't harm me, you know? I was in love with my papa. That had changed too and I don't understand if something involved the other specifically, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly. But a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me initially, 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 actually was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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