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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 typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, considering that I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might actually charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me entering into a unusual vehicle, a various odd cars and truck every time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Way excessive 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 ridiculous, but you 'd be surprised the number of people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need 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 people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
The guys enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 lonesome because I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a man who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I loved my father. That had altered too and I do not know if one thing involved the other exactly, but I do not believe in coincidence either. I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wished to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly. However a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, which troubled me in the beginning, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and imagine the male who was making love to me truly was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it.
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