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I even began taking the cash, mainly since I was much too useful 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 woman in a very long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good thing since he might really charge more, especially if the man 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.
Method 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 ludicrous, but you 'd be stunned how numerous people desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an minor slut to suck and fuck . These were all older men too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to actually like these people for an hour or two. I had to act younger sometimes too, as a little lady maybe eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
The males loved me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 lonely because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little safer that way. Like a guy who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them desiring 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 girl next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my father. I might talk to him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and loved. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't help it.
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