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I even began taking the cash, mainly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical 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 girls do. I hadn't been a little woman in a long period of time though. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he could actually charge more, especially if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.

I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months currently, and I 'd misplaced the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't wish to know, however it needed 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 2. Choosing me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was ludicrous, but you 'd marvel how many people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my father'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 marketing and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to in fact like these men for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.

The guys enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that way. Like a man who enjoyed me wouldn't injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys 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 woman next door perhaps.

I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my father. I could talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and liked. And somewhere, somehow along that trip, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my real father and almost forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his spouse. We 'd done everything however practiced our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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