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I even started taking the cash, mainly since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the method 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 women do. I had not been a little lady in a long time. Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing due to the fact that he could actually charge more, specifically if the guy I was going with chosen me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.

Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, but you 'd be stunned how lots of men wanted exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to draw and fuck . These were all older people too, like my father's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the tips that really flushed my savings account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my manager, my agent, my security guy, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He purchased 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 inform it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. However that wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else since I had to actually like these people for an hour or two. I needed to act more youthful often too, as a little girl maybe eleven or twelve years of ages; but never ever older. None of the men paying for me wanted a lady, just a lady, and understanding that I truly was simply fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a genuine skill for it. I had a skill for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the much better I got.

The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for real 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely due to the fact that I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a person who enjoyed 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 various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.

I might close my eyes and envision the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I could talk to him, tell him I liked him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and enjoyed. I was falling in love, in full-grown love, and I couldn't assist it.

 

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