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I even started taking the cash, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he could actually charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot 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 two. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd marvel how many people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to draw 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 mainly. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these men for an hour or more. I needed to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. None of the men spending for me wanted a lady, simply a woman, and understanding that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men loved 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't harm me, you know? I loved my papa. That had actually altered too and I do not know if something involved the other precisely, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, the majority of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly. However a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which bothered me at first, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and imagine the male who was making love to me really was my father. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it.
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