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I even started taking the money, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he could really charge more, particularly if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of men I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way 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 2. Selecting me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many guys desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut 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. They had a lot of cash to spend and it was the pointers that truly flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap 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 because I had to really like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
The males liked me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for genuine 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a man who enjoyed 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 involved the other precisely, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door possibly. 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 man who was making love to me really was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel special and full-grown and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it.
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