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I even started taking the money, primarily 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 silly things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might in fact charge more, particularly if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be stunned how numerous people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to fuck and draw . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a great deal of cash to invest and it was the pointers that actually flushed my checking account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to actually like these guys for an hour or more. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me desired a female, simply a girl, and knowing that I really 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 skill for the sex things anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The males loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that method. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and picture the guy who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel unique and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it.
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