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I even began taking the money, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been just 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 time.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing because he might in fact charge more, especially if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of how many people 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 invest, 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 extra 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd marvel the number of men wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. That wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to in fact like these people for an hour or more. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, just a girl, and knowing that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyway, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.
The men loved me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 lonesome since I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that method. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't harm 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 desired to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and picture the male 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 developed and special and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't help it.
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