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I even started taking the cash, mainly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the method 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 girls do. I had not been a little woman in a long period of time though. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing because he could in fact charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with chosen 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 'd been doing it for almost 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Method 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 two. Choosing me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd marvel the number of men desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of cash to spend and it was the tips that really flushed my savings 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 transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics 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. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to actually like these men for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a female, just a girl, and understanding 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 much better I got.

The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that way. Like a person who enjoyed me would not harm me, you know? I was in love with my father. That had changed too and I do not understand if one thing related to the other specifically, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men 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 different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe. But a great deal of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which bothered me in the beginning, however then it didn't and I started liking it.

I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I could talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel developed and unique and loved. And someplace, somehow along that flight, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my real dad and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. However I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it. It was configured into me, growing up not as his child but as his wife. We 'd done whatever however consummate our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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