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I even started taking the cash, mostly since 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 ridiculous things that little women do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time.
I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyhow, because I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good idea because he might in fact charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege ended up being worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me entering a unusual vehicle, a different odd automobile every time, and question what was going on.
Way 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 believed was ludicrous, but you 'd be stunned how numerous people wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the suggestions that really flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics 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. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real 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 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 lonely since I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who enjoyed me wouldn't injure me, you understand? I loved my papa. That had actually changed too and I don't understand if one thing involved the other exactly, however I do not 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 different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps. A lot of them didn't mind calling me Samantha either, and that troubled me at first, but then it didn't and I began liking it.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my papa. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not assist it.
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