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I even started taking the cash, mainly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing because he could in fact charge more, specifically if the man I was going with picked 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 additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be stunned how lots of people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics 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 since I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that method. Like a person who liked me would not injure me, you know? I loved my papa. That had actually altered too and I do not know if one thing involved the other precisely, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly. But a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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