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I even began taking the cash, primarily because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of common 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 had not been a little woman in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he could actually charge more, specifically if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, however you 'd be shocked how numerous guys wanted exactly 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 daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the tips that really flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased 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 tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to actually like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it.
The men loved 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I was in love with my father. That had altered too and I don't understand if something pertained to the other specifically, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring 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 woman next door perhaps. However a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which troubled me initially, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and picture 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 special and developed and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it.
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