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I even began taking the money, primarily since 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 silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he might in fact charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it had 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 2. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd marvel the number of people wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous since he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these guys for an hour or more. I needed to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a female, just a woman, and knowing that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The men enjoyed 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who loved me would not injure me, you know? I loved my daddy. That had altered too and I don't know if something involved the other specifically, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty men 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 different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I might close my eyes and imagine the male who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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