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I even started taking the cash, mainly because I was much too practical 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 homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do. I hadn't been a little lady in a long time though. I just worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, since I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could actually charge more, specifically if the person I was choosing picked me up at school. That privilege ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was always afraid someone would see me entering a weird automobile, a different strange automobile each time, and wonder what was going on.

I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Method 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 two. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd marvel the number of guys wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, just a lady, and understanding that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.

The males liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a man who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I loved my dad. That had changed too and I don't know if something involved the other specifically, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some 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 troubled me at initially, however then it didn't and I started liking it.

I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I might speak to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and loved. And somewhere, in some way along that ride, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real papa and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. But I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his child but as his wife. We 'd done everything but practiced our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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