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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 method of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a long time.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing since he might in fact charge more, especially if the man I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, but you 'd be shocked how lots of guys desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage whore to draw and fuck . These were all older men too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the ideas that really flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated 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 bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk 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 since I had to actually like these men for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for genuine 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 due to the fact that I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who loved me would not hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty guys or something, many of them desiring 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 girl next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my papa. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and grown-up and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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