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I even started taking the cash, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt 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 ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing because he might really charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised how lots of men wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I was in love with my dad. That had altered too and I don't understand if one thing related to the other precisely, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty guys or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at first, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me actually was my dad. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and special and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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