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I even started taking the money, mainly since I was much too practical 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing because he might actually charge more, especially if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Method 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 two. Selecting me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd be surprised how many men wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to actually like these people for an hour or more. I needed to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men paying for me desired a female, simply a girl, and understanding that I truly was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real 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 lonely since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a person who loved me would not injure me, you understand? I loved my papa. That had actually altered too and I don't know if one thing had to do with the other exactly, but I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty guys or something, the majority of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe. But a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and imagine the male who was making love to me truly was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and developed and liked. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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