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I even began taking the money, mostly because I was much too useful 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 homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long time though.
I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyhow, because I needed to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing because he could actually charge more, particularly if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was always scared someone would see me entering into a odd vehicle, a various unusual automobile every time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of guys I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way 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 two. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised the number of men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.
The males enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 due to the fact that I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them wanting 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 lady next door possibly.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my dad. I could speak with him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel special and developed and enjoyed. And somewhere, in some way along that ride, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine daddy and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his wife. We 'd done everything however consummate our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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