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I even started taking the money, mostly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of typical 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 ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing because he could really charge more, especially if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for nearly 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Method 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. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised how many people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. He stated 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 bought my clothing and the things I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap like that. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little girl perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a lady, simply a lady, and knowing that I truly was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine 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 males liked 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely since I understood it wasn't actually me they liked, mainly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a man who liked me wouldn't 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 wanted to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and think of the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I might talk with him, inform 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 genuine daddy and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it. It was configured into me, growing up not as his child however as his spouse. We 'd done everything but practiced our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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