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I even began taking the money, mainly since 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 research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do. I hadn't been a little girl in a very long time though. I only worked three or 4 nights a week anyway, given that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. 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 additional, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly afraid someone would see me getting into a odd car, a different odd automobile each time, and wonder what was going on.

Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd be surprised how many men wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more typically 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 man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.

Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my convenience and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt actually guilty initially, however that had gone away when I recognized I wasn't injuring anyone. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although a few of them enjoyed me genuine and asked me if I 'd marry them, or a minimum of come back to their cities and deal with them. But they loved 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 knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who loved me would not hurt me, you know? I loved my papa. That had actually altered too and I don't know if one thing pertained to the other specifically, however I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a different name, their daughter'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 bothered me at first, however then it didn't and I started liking it.

I could close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and unique and loved. And somewhere, somehow along that trip, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my genuine father and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. However I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his wife. We 'd done whatever but skilled our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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