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I even started taking the money, mostly because I was much too practical 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 silly things that little ladies do.
I had not been a little woman in a very long time though.
I only worked 3 or 4 nights a week anyway, because 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 thing due to the fact that he could really charge more, specifically if the person I was opting for selected me up at school. That advantage ended up being worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't truly like it. I was always scared someone would see me entering a odd vehicle, a different strange cars and truck whenever, and question what was going on.
Method too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ridiculous, however you 'd be stunned how many people desired exactly that. Like it showed beyond a doubt that they were getting the real offer, an underage slut to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my papa's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mainly. 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 prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else because I had to in fact like these men for an hour or two. I had to act younger in some cases too, as a little girl possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.
The guys loved me for a little bit, although some of them enjoyed me for genuine 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 due to the fact that I understood it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little more secure that way. Like a guy who liked me wouldn't hurt me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, most of them desiring 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 woman next door maybe.
I might close my eyes and think of the guy who was making love to me actually was my papa. I could talk to him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and liked. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I couldn't assist it.
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