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I even started taking the money, primarily due to the fact that I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of common sense. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little girls do.
I had not been a little woman in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a great thing since he could in fact charge more, particularly if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That benefit turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't actually like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Choosing me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd be surprised how lots of people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. They had a great deal of cash to spend and it was the tips that really flushed my bank account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous since he was my supervisor, my representative, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like condoms and lube and scrap 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 given that I had to actually like these men for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it.
The males 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 lonesome since I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most 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 woman next door perhaps.
I might close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me really was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't assist it.
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