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I even began taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that 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 ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he could really charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of men I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Way excessive for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd marvel the number of people wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the ideas that truly flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes 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 inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. However that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I needed to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. None of the men spending for me desired a female, just a woman, and knowing that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 because I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who loved me would not injure me, you know? I loved my papa. That had altered too and I do not know if one thing related to the other exactly, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty people 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 child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly. However a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me in the beginning, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my father. I could speak to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and liked. And someplace, in some way along that ride, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real dad 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 grown-up love, and I could not help it. It was configured into me, growing up not as his child however as his spouse. We 'd done everything however practiced our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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