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I even started taking the cash, mainly because I was much too useful 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 ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he might in fact 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 truly like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised how many men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to really like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. None of the men spending for me desired a female, simply a woman, and understanding that I actually 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 talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The males liked 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who liked me would not injure me, you understand? I loved my daddy. That had changed too and I do not understand if something pertained to the other specifically, however I don't 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 wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps. But a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me in the beginning, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel developed and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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