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I even started taking the cash, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the method of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies 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 might really charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
Method 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 stunned how lots of people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the ideas that actually flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said 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 clothing and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to really like these guys for an hour or more. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a female, simply a lady, and knowing that I really was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 lonesome because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who loved me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I was in love with my dad. That had altered too and I don't know if one thing had to do with the other exactly, however I don't 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. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at initially, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my daddy. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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