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I even started taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the method of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing because he might in fact charge more, specifically if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically two months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash 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, but you 'd be surprised the number of men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I needed to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I needed to act younger often too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, simply a girl, and knowing that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I loved my father. That had changed too and I do not understand if one thing involved the other exactly, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty men or something, the majority 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 lady next door maybe. However a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me initially, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the male who was making love to me actually was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it.
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