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I even started taking the money, mainly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing because he might in fact charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way excessive 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. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how many guys desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or regularly 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 truly flushed my savings account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap 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 considering that I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real 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 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 much safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I loved my papa. That had changed too and I don't understand if something involved the other exactly, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring 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 woman 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 began liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me actually was my papa. I might talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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