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I even began taking the cash, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous 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 excellent thing because he could in fact charge more, especially if the man I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be shocked how many guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the tips that actually flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who loved me would not hurt me, you know? I loved my dad. That had changed too and I do not know if one thing involved the other specifically, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly. But a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which bothered me initially, however then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and developed and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.
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