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I even started taking the money, mainly because I was much too useful to let a little thing like regret get in the method of typical 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 ladies do.
I had not been a little lady in a long time.
I just worked three or four nights a week anyway, because I needed to be house by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. However Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a good idea due to the fact that he might in fact charge more, particularly if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That advantage ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't actually like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me entering a weird vehicle, a different strange automobile every time, and question what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I thought was absurd, however you 'd be surprised how lots of men desired precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut 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 mostly. They had a lot of money to invest and it was the ideas 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 man, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He bought 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 tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. That wasn't true. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I needed to in fact like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years of ages; but never older. None of the men spending for me wanted a woman, simply a woman, and knowing that I actually was just fifteen, that was the kicker for them. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it. I had a talent for the sex stuff anyhow, no doubt about that, and the more I did it the better I got.
The guys enjoyed me for a little bit, although some of them liked 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 brief time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome since I understood it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little safer that method. Like a man who liked me wouldn't harm me, you understand? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their daughter's name, or a niece or the little woman next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and imagine the man who was making love to me truly was my papa. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel grown-up and special and enjoyed. And somewhere, in some way along that flight, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine father and practically forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more before. But I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I could not assist it. It was set into me, growing up not as his child but as his other half. We 'd done whatever however practiced our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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