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I even started taking the cash, mainly due to the fact that I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the method of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little silly things that little ladies do. I hadn't been a little woman in a long time though. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he might in fact charge more, particularly if the person I was going with selected 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 almost 2 months currently, and I 'd lost track of how many men I 'd made love with. I didn't need to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash 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 extra 200, which I thought was outrageous, however you 'd marvel how many people desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor slut to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my dad's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the ideas that truly flushed my bank 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 guy, my marketing and transportation 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. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else because I needed to actually like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; however never older. None of the men paying for me desired a woman, just a woman, and understanding that I actually was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.

The men liked 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, primarily I felt a little safer 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 wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe.

I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I might talk with him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and developed and enjoyed. And someplace, in some way along that flight, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go home and see my real papa and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. However I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, growing up not as his child but as his wife. We 'd done whatever however practiced our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?

 

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