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I even started taking the money, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way 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 since he could in fact charge more, specifically if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be stunned how many people desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising 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. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady possibly 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 liked 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 lonely since I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a man who loved me wouldn't injure me, you know? I loved my daddy. That had changed too and I don't know if something related to the other specifically, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty people or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at initially, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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