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I even started taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical 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 lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said 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 benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd be shocked how many guys wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor slut to draw 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 stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it.
The men enjoyed 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I was in love with my dad. That had actually altered too and I do not understand if one thing related to the other specifically, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty guys or something, the majority of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wished to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at initially, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and envision the male who was making love to me actually 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 grown-up love, and I couldn't help it.
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