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I even began taking the money, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the method of common 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 girls do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a excellent thing since he might actually charge more, especially if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced how many people I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way excessive for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Picking me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd marvel the number of guys wanted precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to really like these men for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful in some cases 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 real talent for it.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome due to the fact that I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that method. Like a person who liked me wouldn't injure me, you know? I was in love with my papa. That had actually changed too and I do not know if something had to do with the other exactly, 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 child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, but then it didn't and I started liking it.
I could close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me actually was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and developed and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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