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I even began taking the cash, mainly due to the fact that I was much too practical 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little girls do.
I had not been a little lady in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing since he could actually charge more, specifically if the man 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 really like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Method excessive 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. Choosing me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd be surprised the number of men wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk 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 younger in some cases too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved me for genuine 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome because I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I loved my daddy. That had changed too and I do not know if something related to the other exactly, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at first, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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