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I even started taking the money, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt 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 women do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he could actually charge more, particularly if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be stunned how many men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I needed to act more youthful often too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me desired a lady, simply a girl, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a man who liked me wouldn't harm me, you know? I was in love with my papa. That had altered too and I don't know if one thing involved the other precisely, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring 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 woman next door possibly. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me at first, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and think of the male who was making love to me truly was my father. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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