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I even started taking the cash, mostly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the way of typical 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 lady in a long time.
I just worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyhow, given that I had to be house by 9 pm on school nights and ten o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good idea due to the fact that he could really charge more, especially if the guy I was going with picked me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it. I was constantly scared someone would see me entering into a weird car, a different weird vehicle whenever, and question what was going on.
Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Selecting me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I thought was outrageous, but you 'd be surprised how numerous men desired precisely that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real deal, an minor whore to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security guy, my marketing and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to actually like these men for an hour or two. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a genuine skill for it.
The men loved 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 because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that method. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? 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 wanted to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me really was my daddy. I might talk to him, tell him I loved him, how he made me feel special and developed and loved. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I could not help it.
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