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I even started taking the cash, mostly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common 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 women do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing because he might actually charge more, especially if the guy 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 really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd be surprised how numerous men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor 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 mostly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the suggestions that actually flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require 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. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me desired a woman, just a girl, and knowing that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things 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 liked me for genuine and asked me if I 'd wed 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 because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a man who loved me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I was in love with my daddy. That had actually altered too and I do not understand if something involved the other specifically, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty men or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled 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 truly was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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