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I even started taking the cash, mainly because I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of typical sense. I would have been simply another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little ladies do.
I hadn't been a little girl in a long period of time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a good thing since he might in fact charge more, specifically if the person I was going with selected me up at school. That opportunity turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it.
I 'd been doing it for practically 2 months already, and I 'd misplaced the number of people I 'd made love with. I didn't want to know, but it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of money too. Method too much for a ninth grader to spend, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Selecting me up at school was worth an extra 200, which I believed was ridiculous, however you 'd marvel the number of men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an minor slut to fuck and draw . These were all older guys too, like my father's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. He stated that was generous because he was my manager, my representative, my security guy, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He purchased my clothing and the things I need to work, like prophylactics and lube and junk like that. It was more like acting than anything else given that I had to in fact like these men for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful sometimes too, as a little woman maybe eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I believe I had a real talent for it.
The men enjoyed 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 truly me they liked, mainly I felt a little much safer that way. Like a person who loved me wouldn't hurt me, you know? 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 desired 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 daddy. I could talk with him, inform him I enjoyed him, how he made me feel full-grown and special and enjoyed. And somewhere, in some way along that trip, I 'd started to think it. I 'd go home and see my real dad and practically forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or two prior to. I was falling in love, in grown-up love, and I couldn't help it. It was programmed into me, maturing not as his daughter however as his partner. We 'd done whatever but practiced our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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