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I even began taking the cash, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he could actually charge more, especially if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way 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 2. Selecting me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, but you 'd be surprised how many people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. But that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to actually like these men for an hour or more. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, simply a lady, and knowing that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it. I had a talent for the sex things anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The guys liked me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for genuine 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 since I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a person who liked me wouldn't harm me, you know? I was in love with my father. That had altered too and I don't know if something related to the other specifically, however I don't believe in coincidence either. I 'd made love with like fifty men or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. A few of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe. However a lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that bothered me initially, however then it didn't and I started liking it.
I might close my eyes and envision the guy who was making love to me truly was my dad. I could talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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