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I even began taking the cash, mostly due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of typical sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I hadn't been a little woman in a long time.
I only worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, since I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing due to the fact that he could in fact charge more, particularly if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a number of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it. I was always scared somebody would see me entering a odd vehicle, a different odd cars and truck each time, and wonder what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many people I 'd had sex with. I didn't need to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Way excessive 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. Selecting me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I thought was ludicrous, however you 'd be surprised how many guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage slut to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of cash to spend and it was the suggestions that really flushed my bank account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell 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 two. I had to act more youthful often too, as a little woman possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
The guys loved 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 since I knew it wasn't really me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who liked me would not harm me, you understand? 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 desired to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and liked. And someplace, somehow along that trip, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go house and see my real father and practically forget that it hadn't been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two before. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not help it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his daughter but as his other half. We 'd done whatever however skilled our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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