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I even began taking the money, mainly since I was much too practical to let a little thing like guilt get in the method of common 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 girls do.
I had not been a little girl in a long time though.
Deke didn't mind, he said that was a great thing since he might in fact charge more, especially if the person I was going with picked me up at school. That privilege turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars extra, although I didn't really like it.
I 'd been doing it for almost 2 months already, and I 'd lost track of the number of guys I 'd had sex with. I didn't wish to know, however it needed to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Method excessive for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for two. Selecting me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I believed was absurd, however you 'd marvel the number of men desired exactly that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine deal, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older men too, like my daddy's age, or regularly even older, in their 40's and 50's mostly. They had a great deal of money to spend and it was the suggestions that actually flushed my checking account. Deke offered me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous because he was my supervisor, my agent, my security man, my advertising and transportation all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap 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 given that I had to really like these people for an hour or 2. I had to act younger often too, as a little lady perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real skill for it.
The males liked me for a little bit, although some of them loved 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 actually me they liked, mostly I felt a little much safer that method. Like a person who loved me wouldn't harm me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty men or something, most of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them desired to call me by a different name, their child's name, or a niece or the little lady next door maybe.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me actually was my dad. I might talk with him, inform him I liked him, how he made me feel grown-up and unique and liked. And someplace, in some way along that trip, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go house and see my real papa and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or more prior to. I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not assist it. It was configured into me, growing up not as his daughter but as his other half. We 'd done everything however consummate our relationship, I believed, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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