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I even began taking the cash, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of common 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 women do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing because he might in fact charge more, specifically if the man I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't really like it.
Way too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. Picking me up at school was worth an additional 200, which I believed was ludicrous, however you 'd be stunned how numerous people wanted exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an minor slut to fuck and suck . These were all older people too, like my daddy's age, or more often even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a lot of cash to invest and it was the pointers that really flushed my checking account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He stated that was generous since he was my manager, my agent, my security person, my marketing and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothes and the stuff I need to work, like condoms 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. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to really like these guys for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady possibly eleven or twelve years old; but never ever older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent 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 short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonely because I knew it wasn't truly me they liked, primarily I felt a little safer that method. Like a man who liked me would not harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them desiring me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a various name, their daughter'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 papa. I might talk to him, tell him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and unique and liked. And someplace, in some way along that flight, I 'd begun to believe it. I 'd go house and see my genuine father and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. But I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it. It was configured into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his partner. We 'd done everything however consummate our relationship, I thought, and he needed to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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