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I even started taking the cash, primarily because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he might actually charge more, particularly if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd be surprised the number of men desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the tips that really flushed my bank account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my marketing 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 considering that I had to really like these people for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it.
The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 lonely because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that way. Like a person who liked me would not hurt me, you understand? I was in love with my dad. That had actually altered too and I do not know if one thing had to do with the other specifically, 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 child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door possibly. 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 imagine the male who was making love to me really was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it.
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