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I even started taking the cash, primarily due to the fact that I was much too useful 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could really charge more, particularly if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was absurd, but you 'd be shocked how numerous men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my savings account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that 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 need to work, like condoms 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 because I had to actually like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.
The males loved me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for genuine 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 lonely since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I loved my daddy. That had altered too and I don't understand if one thing pertained to the other exactly, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty men or something, the majority of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps. However a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me in the beginning, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it.
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