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I even started taking the money, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her research, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a long time.
I only worked 3 or four nights a week anyhow, considering that I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good idea due to the fact that he might actually charge more, specifically if the man I was opting for selected me up at school. That opportunity ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it. I was always afraid someone would see me entering into a strange automobile, a different weird vehicle each time, and wonder what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised how lots of men desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my dad's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to actually like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
The males liked me for a little bit, although some of them liked me for real 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 actually me they liked, primarily I felt a little much safer that method. Like a guy who liked me would not harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little lady next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my daddy. I might speak to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel developed and unique and enjoyed. And somewhere, in some way along that trip, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real dad and nearly forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it. It was set into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his better half. We 'd done everything however skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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