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I even began taking the cash, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret 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 ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time.
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 advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of guys I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of money too. Method 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 2. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised how many people desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the pointers that actually flushed my savings account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my representative, my security man, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. He did all the work if you listened to him inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
The guys enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a man who enjoyed me would not harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys 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 girl next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and developed and enjoyed. And somewhere, in some way along that flight, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go house and see my real dad and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his better half. We 'd done whatever however skilled our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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