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I even started taking the money, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing since he might really charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money 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. Choosing me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd marvel the number of men wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the suggestions that truly flushed my bank account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics 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 since I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 safer that method. Like a guy who loved me would not harm me, you understand? I loved my dad. That had changed too and I do not understand if something had to do with the other specifically, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty men or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at initially, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and imagine the male who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and liked. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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