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I even started taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of typical 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 ladies do.
I had not been a little girl in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he could in fact charge more, particularly if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many guys I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash too. Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Choosing me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I believed was ludicrous, but you 'd marvel the number of men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the tips that truly flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like condoms 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. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I needed to in fact like these guys for an hour or more. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, just a woman, and knowing that I truly was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real skill for it. I had a skill for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men loved 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 truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a man who enjoyed me would not hurt me, you understand? 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 wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and imagine the male who was making love to me really was my father. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and grown-up and loved. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it.
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