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I even began taking the cash, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret 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 woman in a long period of time though. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing because he might actually charge more, specifically if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.

I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Method too much 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. Selecting me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd marvel how many people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the suggestions that really flushed my bank account. Deke offered 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 bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.

The guys 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a man who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you know? I was in love with my papa. That had actually altered too and I don't know if something pertained to the other specifically, but I do not 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. A few of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, 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 actually was my daddy. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and special and enjoyed. And someplace, in some way along that trip, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go home and see my real dad and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child however as his other half. We 'd done everything however skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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