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I even began taking the cash, mainly since I was much too practical 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 women do.
I hadn't been a little lady in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing due to the fact that he might in fact charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost two months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of people I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, but it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a lot of cash 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. Choosing me up at school deserved an extra 200, which I believed was outrageous, however you 'd be surprised how many men wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of money to spend and it was the tips that truly flushed my savings account. Deke gave me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need 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. But that wasn't real. It was more like acting than anything else because I needed to actually like these people for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, simply a girl, and understanding that I really was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The men liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a man who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you know? 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 woman next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me truly was my father. I could speak with him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel developed and special and enjoyed. And somewhere, somehow along that flight, I 'd begun to think it. I 'd go home and see my real daddy and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 prior to. But I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it. It was configured into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his wife. We 'd done everything but skilled our relationship, I believed, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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