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I even started taking the cash, mostly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical sense. I would have been just 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 girl in a long period of time though.
I only worked three or four nights a week anyhow, because I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a excellent thing since he might really charge more, especially if the guy I was going with selected me up at school. That benefit ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was constantly afraid someone would see me getting into a unusual vehicle, a different odd vehicle whenever, and question what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd be stunned how many people desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an underage whore to suck and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more typically even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to in fact like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine talent for it.
The males liked me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome since I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a person who liked me would not harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little girl next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me actually was my daddy. I could speak with him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and enjoyed. And someplace, somehow along that ride, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real daddy and almost 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 could not assist it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his child however as his partner. We 'd done whatever but skilled our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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