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I even started taking the money, mostly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the method 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 girls do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he could actually charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many guys desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the suggestions that really flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought 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 tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for real 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 lonesome since I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I loved my daddy. That had altered too and I do not know if something had to do with the other exactly, however I do not 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 various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly. But a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me in the beginning, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it.
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