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I even began taking the money, primarily because I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he might actually charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way 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 2. Picking me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I believed was outrageous, however you 'd marvel how many guys desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else because I needed to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a female, simply a woman, and understanding that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
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 knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who loved me would not hurt me, you know? I loved my father. That had actually changed too and I do not understand if one thing related to the other exactly, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty men or something, the majority of them wanting 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. 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 dad. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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